Golden Thread Of Trust
by Marian of the Faeries
Summary: *Finished.* The war is over. Harry is empty and Draco is lost in a whirlwind of emotions he can’t handle. Can and will they help each other? Harry/Draco *slash*.
1. Emptiness

Title: Golden Thread Of Trust   
Author: Marian of the Faeries   
Rating: PG13  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowlings created and owns all characters and their surroundings. Except for the one I invented myself. Quoted lyrics by Darren Hayes.   
Warnings: Some cursing, slash, and depressing thoughts...   
Summary: The war is over. Harry is empty and Draco is lost in a whirlwind of emotions he can't handle. Can and will they help each other? Harry/Draco *slash*.   
  
Golden Thread Of Trust  
  
Chapter 1: Emptiness  
  
_Cool breeze and autumn leaves   
Slow motion daylight   
A lone pair of watchful eyes   
Oversee the living...  
  
Savage Garden - "You Can Still Be Free"  
  
_It was a late night in the beginning of October. The rain was pouring down over Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as if it tried to wash the castle clean from all the evil it had seen lately. The school lay in darkness on its hill, and almost everyone was fast asleep. But in the Gryffindor tower, in the seventh-year boys' dormitory, a young man was out of bed. He sat on the windowsill, his silhouette barely visible in the starless night.   
Harry Potter was deep in thoughts. He thought about what was going to come, and that which had been. Last year, his worst enemy, Lord Voldemort, was defeated, and the chaos that broke out in the wizarding world after Voldemorts rise to power was beginning to subside. A lot of Death Eaters had been killed, and many captured. Wormtail was among those who were captured, and that meant that Harry's godfather Sirius would probably be freed sooner or later.   
Voldemort was gone forever. The threat that had been looming over Harry for six years was also gone. Harry was happy, of course, but he felt strangely empty. Since he found out that Voldemort had killed his parents and tried to kill Harry himself, Harry had wanted to see him dead. But now, afterwards, he derived no pleasure from the battles that were fought, or the terrible sights he had seen. He still had nightmares, although not as frequently as he used to. In fact, that was what woke him up tonight, and made him unable to fall asleep again.   
Now he was brooding over the future. He still had one year left at Hogwarts, but he seemed unable to look any farther than that. He missed having a goal in his life, to strive for something important. In the future, he could only see schoolwork. He wished he had someone to talk to about his emptiness. He could imagine Hermione's reply:   
"Well, at least you have the N.E.W.T.'s to look forward to."   
Ron and Hermione were still his best friends, but since they had become a couple in sixth year Harry felt that he must give them some privacy and time to be alone together. He sighed softly when he thought of his own, non-existent, love life. After Cho turned him down, Harry had never been in love, not even interested in a girl. Well, what was he supposed to do about that? You couldn't just fall in love because you wanted to, could you? He considered starting a fight with Malfoy, but decided against it. Ever since Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy was killed and Malfoy Manor laid in ruins, the boy had not seemed to be himself. He had enough to cope with as it was, and Harry didn't want to add to that. Besides, when all of Voldemort's supporters left Hogwarts to join his ranks before the final battle — Crabbe and Goyle left among others — Malfoy had stayed. Harry didn't quite know what to make of that. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. It was time to go back to bed.  
  
They had double Potions with the Slytherins first thing in the morning. Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the classroom in the dungeons early, but they weren't the first. Most of the Slytherins were already there, but they were only six this year, since four of them left in the sixth year, and none of them returned, of course. Harry noticed that Malfoy just sat and stared into empty space. He seemed to be doing that a lot nowadays. Harry was reminded of the first day in school, on the Hogwarts Express.  
  
Mrs Weasley had delayed them with her motherly concerns until the very last minute. All of the cabins were full, until they entered the last one. It had only one occupant, Draco Malfoy, who looked out of the window with a distant look on his face.   
"All the other cabins are full, may we sit here?" Harry asked, expecting the usual insult in reply. But Malfoy just shrugged, said:   
"Sure," and continued to stare out of the window.   
The three friends found it a bit awkward to talk in their usual manner in Malfoy's presence, but since he didn't seem to even acknowledge their presence, they ignored him. But, inevitably, their conversation started to concern the last schoolyear's events, a sensitive topic. And just as inevitably, Ron had to bring Malfoy into it as well.   
"I guess _some_ aren't that proud if their 'pure blood' anymore," he shot towards Malfoy.   
"I suppose you just peed in your pants with delight when you found something you could throw in my face," the pale boy answered in an emotionless voice.   
"Yes, actually I did," Ron answered lightly. "I just _love_ to taunt evil wizards."   
Malfoy's grey eyes narrowed.   
"I don't like what you're insinuating," he spat. "I was never a Death Eater!"   
Ron snorted.   
"See for yourselves, then," said Malfoy angrily and pulled up his left sleeve, only to reveal smooth white skin without a trace of the telling scar.   
"No mark."   
"Wouldn't the Dark Mark have faded by now?" Harry asked calmly.   
Malfoy just sighed, and retreated into himself again.  
  
For some reason, unknown even to himself, Harry wanted to know the truth. He sat there in the classroom, thinking about it, as Professor Snape entered, his robes billowing around him.   
He seemed to be in his usual bad mood. Becoming a war hero after spying on Voldemort had apparently not changed him at all. Not for the better, at least. Suddenly it dawned on Harry. Of course! He could ask Snape!   
Immediately after the lesson he went up to the tall Potions Master.   
"Professor, may I have a word with you?"   
Snape must have noticed by the look on his face that it was something important, because he didn't send him away.   
"Yes, Potter? What do you have on your mind?" he asked, somewhat derisively.   
"I... I just wanted to know... Did the Dark Mark fade after Voldemort's death?"   
Snape gave him an unreadable look, and pulled up his sleeve.   
"Yes, it has faded now, and soon, I expect, it will be entirely gone."   
On his arm you could see a faint, grey mark, a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth. That proved Malfoy innocent, then. Harry wondered why he cared.   
"Thank you, Professor," he said, and exited the dungeons with a troubled look on his face.   
The black-eyed teacher watched him leave, but only Snape himself knew what he was thinking in that moment.   
  
At lunch the entire Gryffindor table was engaged in conversation. Everyone, except Colin Creevey, who was very busy eating, Neville and Ginny, who were busy gazing into each other's eyes, and Harry, who sat silent and listened to the others. They were discussing Quidditch, and normally Harry would have participated, but he wasn't in the mood today. He finished his food, and glanced over the Great Hall. About a quarter of the Slytherins were missing this year, and there were many empty seats. He noticed that Malfoy sat by himself, his head bent so that his fair hair hid his face. He seemed awfully lonely, Harry mused, obviously oblivious to the fact that he himself was just as lonely, even though he was surrounded by friends.  
  
Harry went over it again and again in his head, endlessly repeating the conversation. After a couple of days he realised that he would have to do it, simply to find some peace of mind. And so, that Thursday after supper, when he saw Malfoy exit the Great Hall and head towards the lake, he followed.   
"Malfoy!" he shouted. "Can I have a word with you?"   
"What do you want, Potter?" the blond boy asked in a tired voice, when Harry caught up with him.   
"Actually, I..." Harry lowered his eyes. "I wanted to apologise. Remember the incident on the train? I'm sorry about that, I should've taken your word for it." There, he had said it. He looked up at the other boy. The Slytherin's mouth had dropped open and he just stared at Harry with a look of utter disbelief on his face. Quite satisfied, Harry turned and started walking back to the castle.   
"Potter... Wait!" Malfoy stopped him with a curious look in his pale eyes. "I'm sorry, too. I know that I haven't given you any reason to trust my word. Even my family name means bad faith. But I'm not proud of that name anymore. Just thought you should know." And with that he walked off, this time leaving Harry staring wide-eyed at his back.  
  
_In that precise moment, the Ancient One was thrown out of her slumber and knew that she had a task ahead of her.   
'Who could it be this time, I wonder. Very strong compelling, indeed.'   
She drifted slowly over to a pool that seemed to be filled with mist and clouds in different colours. She gazed into it, and her eyes widened slightly. This would require some thinking.  
  
_Draco Malfoy was filled with a lot of emotions, and he didn't know how to interpret them. First of all relief. Perhaps it was because he finally apologised, wherever that stupid idea came from. Shouldn't have given Potter any advantage, he would probably just use it against him... Maybe he was simply relieved cause Potter didn't follow him here? And this strange, airy feeling, that felt almost like... hope? What the hell did he have to hope for? He was totally lost, and he knew it. But he couldn't help feeling. Most of all, though, he felt sad. And he knew that the sadness was justified. There wasn't a wizard or witch alive that didn't hate him, no matter which side they were on. Both sides saw him as a traitor, a turncoat. And worst of all, he knew that he had been living a lie. He was brought up to be a Malfoy, no wonder he became one. Pure blood was important, money was important, and power was important. The weak and the Mudbloods were to be despised. Compassion and emotions were signs of weakness. This was what his parents had taught him, and he had believed them. Until now. It was some time last year that the realisation had come to him. His father was a slave under Voldemort's will, completely governed by fear and desire for power, while Dumbledore, Potter and the others had something else... They knew that they were fighting for the right thing, and nothing could stop them, short of death. Who, then, was weak, and who was strong? It was a hard decision, but at the last moment he decided to stay on Dumbledore's side. He knew that he definitely didn't want to be Voldemort's pawn, but on the other hand he didn't know if he could be the other way either. His conditioning went too deep. Well, it turned out that he wasn't even given a chance, and he often wished that he had joined Voldemort, fought and died. Then he wouldn't have to put up with this hell. He slammed his fist, hard, into a rock.   
'Damn my father!' he thought furiously. His fist hit the rock again, and again.   
"DAMN HIM!"   
The echo of his desperate words faded, unheard, and the lake was still again.   
His hand was bleeding, and it hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain inside him. He knew, all too well, that in the end it all came down to him. So he hated his father and mother for doing this to him, but most of all he hated himself.  
  
Next chapter: The Ancient One   
Who is the Ancient One, and what is her task?


	2. The Ancient One

Title: Golden Thread Of Trust   
Author: Marian of the Faeries   
Rating: PG13  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowlings created and owns all characters and their surroundings. Except for the one I invented myself.  
Warnings: Some cursing, slash, and depressing thoughts...   
Summary: The war is over. Harry is empty and Draco is lost in a whirlwind of emotions he can't handle. Can and will they help each other? Harry/Draco *slash*.  
  
Golden Thread Of Trust  
  
Chapter 2: The Ancient One  
  
Harry stumbled through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room, interrupting Ron and Hermione who were snogging on a sofa. He flopped unceremoniously into an armchair, looking completely stunned.   
"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked, curious.   
Harry mumbled something incomprehensible.   
"Come on, Harry, speak up!" Ron complained.   
"Malfoy just apologised to me for being an arse for six years. At least, that is what I think he said."   
"What? I can't believe it!" Hermione exclaimed.   
"Why on earth would he do that?" said Ron, confused.   
Harry shrugged.   
"I think I'll go upstairs and write my Transfigurations essay," he proclaimed and left.   
"Ron," said Hermione, "hasn't Harry been a little distant lately?"   
"Mmm, perhaps," said Ron, slightly distracted by Hermione's ear lobe. "Why?"   
"Do you think he has girl troubles?"   
"Harry hasn't even _mentioned_ anything about a girl since Cho."   
"But that ended in fifth year!"   
"Yes, I know"   
"Ron, maybe he prefers guys?"   
"Hermione!" Ron protested. "You don't have to jump to conclusions! He's been quite occupied with battling Voldemort, you know. Maybe he didn't have time!"   
"Well, that's a possibility..." she confessed, suddenly interrupted by Ron's very soft lips on her own.   
They both forgot about the conversation, unaware that Harry had overheard it all when he went downstairs to fetch his quill, and _he_ did certainly not forget about it.   
"What if it's true," he whispered, immediately realising that is _was_ true.   
He slipped quietly up the stairs to the dormitory, and threw himself on his bed. How weird that Hermione had to figure it out first! He wondered if he should be sorry now, but he wasn't. Probably he'd known it for quite a long time, without knowing that he knew. If that was possible. No, he wasn't going to be sorry. That was just who he was. He stopped thinking, because his mind was getting rather foggy.   
Two hours later, Ron entered the dormitory and found Harry staring at the ceiling.   
"Harry?"   
No answer.   
Ron shook him by the shoulders.   
"Harry, are you all right?"   
"Err... no, I feel kind of strange," he said, blinking. "I think I should go to bed."   
Ron looked concerned, but he didn't say anything.  
  
Harry had very disturbing dreams that night. He was lost in an underground maze with stone walls, and he walked for hours in the pale, ghostly light that seemed to have no source. He kept counting; left turn, right turn, left turn; and all the time a voice whispered in his mind, urging him forward, _'hurry, hurry'_. Sometimes he would stumble on a gnarled root, but he knew he had to keep moving. _Left turn, right turn, and right turn again...  
  
_The next morning Harry had some difficulties with his eyes. They _really_ didn't want to open. Harry groaned. He was so tired; it was as if he hadn't slept at all. He stumbled blindly into the boy's bathroom and washed his face. He didn't feel any better.   
"Come on, Harry, you'll be late for breakfast!" Ron shouted.   
"Coming!" he yelled back. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He looked awful.   
'Oh, well.'   
  
At breakfast, Harry's friends started to worry when he fell asleep on his plate for the second time.   
"Harry, are you feeling well?" Ginny asked and removed some scrambled eggs from his hair.   
"No," he mumbled, "I didn't sleep very well."   
"Maybe you're ill?" Ron suggested.   
Ginny put her hand on his forehead.   
"Feels like you have a light fever," she said. "Are you going to come to Hogsmeade?"   
She looked disappointed.   
"I don't think I should," Harry answered, disappointed as well.   
He glanced over at the Slytherin table, and noticed that Malfoy looked very tired as well. Maybe he noticed that Harry looked in his direction, because he looked up, and their eyes met.   
"Harry, what are you smiling at?" Hermione asked.   
Harry was slightly shocked. He hadn't realised that he had smiled.   
"Oh, nothing."  
  
Albus Dumbledore sat behind the desk in his office, when the Care of Magical Creatures teacher entered.   
"Professor Dumbledore!" Hagrid boomed. "There's somethin' I thought yeh should know 'bout."   
"Yes, Hagrid?"   
"Firenze tol' me tha' the Ancient 'Un is awake again."   
"Oh, is that so? It has been a while now, since last time. I thought that perhaps she would go to sleep forever this time."   
"Well, what're we goin' ter do abou' it?"   
"I think we had better let her do what she believes is necessary. Things _usually_ turns out for the best."   
"Let me just remind yeh 'bout the mess tha' she created last time," Hagrid grunted.   
"Yes, I believe that many people were quite upset. It was very refreshing," Dumbledore said, with a twinkle in his eyes.   
Hagrid chuckled.   
"I'll just hope tha' yeh know what yeh're doing then, eh, Headmaster."  
  
Harry woke up abruptly, threw off his blanket and sat up. Ron was asleep in the other bed. 'Have I been sleeping all day?' he wondered. He got his winter cloak, put it on and sneaked out of the room. The common room was empty, and it was dark outside. He went out of the portrait hole and through the deserted hallways. He didn't know where he was going, he wasn't thinking. In the back of his mind he felt that strange feeling that someone was urging him forward. _'Hurry, hurry!' _  
He went outside, and crossed the lawn. When he realised that he was about to enter the Forbidden Forest he started to become afraid. But at that point it felt like something was taking over and making the decision for him. He reluctantly followed a narrow, winding path into the forest. The tall, black trees were intimidating, but to his surprise he knew exactly where to go. He went deep inside the forest, deeper than he'd ever been, even with Hagrid. It got darker and darker further in, and he couldn't see his hand in front of him. He stopped and pulled out his wand from his pocket.   
"_Lumos,_" he whispered, and a light appeared at the end of the wand.   
In front of him he saw a large, steep cliff. And the moment he spotted the darker shadow that surely hid an opening of some sort, perhaps a cave, he knew that he had to enter. He took a few steps forward, and the light hit the walls of the tunnel. To his surprise they were man-made, not actually smooth, but it was evidently no natural crack. His feet started to move again, and he thought he could discern faint whispering from the darkness inside, but perhaps it was just his imagination. It was time for a new surprise when he discovered that the passage split into two, and then split again. It was the maze from his dream! And he knew his way. _Left turn, right turn, left turn..._ He walked for a long time. Harry thought that it must've been at least half an hour, and he lost count of the turnings, but he was sure of the way nonetheless. Eventually the passage ended in a dimly lit cave. It was fairly big, but the ceiling was so low it almost touched Harry's head.   
"_Nox,_" he whispered, and his magical light went out.   
He wondered where the light came from. The cave seemed empty, except for a thin mist in the air, and a pool sunk into the floor that seemed to be filled with swirling clouds. Suddenly he got the distinct feeling that he wasn't alone. He thought he saw something move at the far end of the cave. He felt something touch his mind, a sense of welcome, and he jerked in surprise.   
He sensed amusement, friendliness.   
'That's how I communicate.'   
'Who are you?'   
'They call me the Ancient One.'   
Harry didn't quite understand what that was supposed to mean.   
'I summoned you here.'   
'_That_ was what all the dreams were about?'   
'I taught you the way. No one can find me unless I want them to.'   
'Why did you summon me?'   
'Your help is requested.'   
The shape drew nearer, and Harry strained his eyes, trying to make out what it was. It definitely wasn't human, because it was transparent, but it was no ghost either. And it was definitely a female. Harry could see a pair of large eyes, incredibly deep, but he couldn't distinguish any other features. It, no, 'she' he corrected himself, drifted across the floor. She had no feet, Harry discovered. Her legs just faded out into nothingness. He swallowed.   
'How can I help you?'   
'It's not me... Harry. I have seen all there is to see. I have listened to the heartbeats of the planet for many centuries. I have known mankind in ages of peace and of war... I have no needs.'   
'Who is it that needs help, then?'   
'Follow me.'   
Harry followed the misty shape through an opening in the side of the cave, and entered another. In the middle of the cave, he could see someone laying on a smooth rock that looked far too much like an altar for Harry's taste. He walked up to it, and he recognised the sleeping person. He was tall and slim, had silver-blond hair, a pale, narrow face, delicate features. Draco Malfoy.   
'Him! He used to be my worst enemy!'   
'Used to?'   
Amusement   
Harry failed to see what was so funny.   
'Well... He's been a bit confusing lately. There doesn't seem to be so much hatred anymore...'   
'Would you give him a second chance, then? Would you help your former enemy?'   
Harry thought of Dumbledore, who always believed that people could change and redeem themselves. Even Death Eaters. And Malfoy never went that far. He had just been very mean... And he looked so peaceful...   
'Yes, I would,' he thought firmly.   
'He doesn't know he's here. He thinks he is dreaming. Sometimes when he's asleep he can escape the pain, the misery.' Those feelings flooded Harry, as if she wanted to show him what the other boy was feeling.   
Harry gasped.   
'You couldn't tell he's so unhappy,' he thought, glancing down at Malfoy. 'He looks just like a sleeping angel.'   
'People do not treat him like an angel.'   
Harry felt slightly guilty.   
'It's killing him. He's very close to the edge.'   
She looked down at the sleeping boy. So proud, he would never accept that he needed Harry, who once turned him down. And his pride would never let him help Harry either. It was best to keep him unaware of her meddling and let him sort through that himself, later. Harry was proud too, but his needs were different. Surely he wouldn't accept Draco's help either, but he wouldn't refuse to help him. This empty young man _needed_ to be needed. And he needed it desperately.   
'Where do I fit into all this?' Harry asked.   
'He needs you,' she answered simply.   
Draco Malfoy opened his eyes, and sat up.   
"Harry! What are you doing here?"   
'Remember, he still thinks he is dreaming.'   
"Draco, let's get out of here, shall we?"   
The pale boy rose and turned towards Harry.   
Harry suddenly understood that _he _was supposed to find the way back through the maze and the Forbidden Forest.   
'Oh, well,' he thought, trying not to panic.   
He started to walk, and felt Draco's hand slip into his.   
He turned around, surprised, and saw the other boy's grey eyes looking straight into his.   
"I don't want to lose you inside the maze" Draco explained.   
Harry smiled, and they entered the maze again together. It was more difficult to retrace their steps, but they made it, though Harry definitely was nervous. Finally, they exited the last tunnel and felt fresh air on their faces. The trees of the Forbidden Forest loomed tall and black, and they seemed almost alive, their branches rattling in the wind. Draco shuddered and unconsciously drew nearer Harry.   
"Afraid of the dark?" Harry asked casually.   
"You know, people say that you're afraid of the dark because you can't see what's hiding there," said Draco, and caught Harry's gaze. He looked terrified.   
"But I've seen it, Harry," he whispered, "I've seen what's hiding in the shadows. And sometimes, it's even worse than you could imagine."   
Harry didn't know how to handle this, and he was glad that Draco didn't know that he wasn't dreaming.   
They walked back in silence and parted in the Entrance Hall, Harry on his way to Gryffindor Tower and Draco on his way to the dungeons. Only when he was back in his bed, Harry realised that he hadn't exactly been told what to do. It wasn't as if he could ask Malfoy. Well, that had to wait until morning. He laid his head on his pillow and fell asleep instantly.  
  
Next chapter: Close To The Edge   
We'll find out exactly what the Ancient One meant with 'it's killing him'.


	3. Close to the Edge

Title: Golden Thread Of Trust   
Author: Marian of the Faeries   
Rating: PG13   
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowlings created and owns all characters and their surroundings. Except for the one I invented myself. Quoted lyrics by Darren Hayes.   
Warnings: Some cursing, slash, and depressing thoughts...   
Summary: The war is over. Harry is empty and Draco is lost in a whirlwind of emotions he can't handle. Can and will they help each other? Harry/Draco *slash*.  
  
Chapter 3: Close To The Edge  
  
_When you feel all alone  
And a loyal friend is hard to find  
You're caught in a one way street  
With the monsters in your head  
When hopes and dreams are far away and  
You feel like you can't face the day  
  
Let me be the one you call  
If you jump I'll break your fall...  
  
Savage Garden - "Crash And Burn"  
  
_Draco woke up with a start the next morning and tried to remember his dream. It was something weird... That maze again, trees with branches rustling in the wind, a strange, whispering voice, dark shadows... and Harry Potter. Strange. In his dream, Harry had been friendly, and he never was friendly to Draco. No wonder, considering Draco's behaviour all those years. In the dream Harry had been guiding him, and Draco's carefully built walls had begun to crumble. He shuddered.   
'I would _never_ be weak in front of Harry. Um... Potter, I mean.'  
Some of his classmates sat in the common room when he entered, but when they saw him their conversation ceased and they greeted him with an icy silence. He went up to the Great Hall and sat down by himself at the Slytherin table. He looked down at his breakfast and didn't raise his eyes until he finished it.   
'Another Sunday. What shall I do today? Same as always, study, of course. If I keep studying this much I'll be bloody better than Granger,' he thought bitterly. He went down to his dormitory and fetched his homework for Potions, Transfiguration and Study of Ancient Runes. Then he sat down at an empty table at the far end of the library and started working.  
  
Harry sighed. For once, Hermione did not want to do homework, since she was very busy being with Ron. They had a long and difficult Potions essay to write, and he didn't understand it one bit. He sighed again and went down to the library alone. When he spotted a lone figure at a table, an idea started to form in his mind. He had to find a way to get to know Malfoy, and this might just be the opportunity he had waited for.  
"Hi," said Harry nervously.  
"Hullo, Potter," Malfoy answered without looking up.  
Harry took a deep breath.  
"You're pretty good at Potions, right?"  
"Mhm," the blond answered noncommittally.  
"You know this essay we're supposed to write? I don't understand anything, and I was wondering if you could help me?"  
Draco looked up in amazement.  
"Why don't you ask Granger? No offence," he added.  
It was a justified question, Harry thought. He made a face.  
"She's making out with Ron somewhere."  
"Well, all right," said Malfoy and moved his things so Harry could sit down next to him.  
They were supposed to write an essay on Veritaserum and it consisted of a lot of rare and complicated ingredients. When he was finished, Harry sighed contentedly.  
"Thank you, I could never have managed that on my own."  
"Welcome," Malfoy simply answered. "What are you doing in Transfiguration?"  
"Um... Animagi, again," Harry answered.  
"Us too. That one's a little bit more difficult."  
"Hmm. I think it sounds considerably easier."  
They worked in silence for a while, then Malfoy suddenly said:  
"I wonder why there's so few animagi?"  
"They say it's very difficult and dangerous, and I think there's a lot of unregistered animagi as well."  
"You have experience of that, I suppose," said Malfoy and raised one eyebrow.  
"So have you," Harry reminded him.  
"Yeah, but that's just one. You said 'a lot'."  
"I know at least three more," said Harry casually.  
Malfoy looked curious.  
"But I'm not going to name them," he added. Did the other boy look a bit disappointed? But Harry didn't want to reveal Sirius' secret, at least not until he was free of his charges, and the exact circumstances around Peter Pettigrew's supposed death weren't commonly known either.  
"My father was one."  
"Really? What kind of animal?"  
"A stag. His nickname was Prongs. Have you started Quidditch practice yet?" he asked, quickly changing the subject.  
"I'm not on the team anymore."  
Harry looked startled.  
"Why not?"  
"Guess they didn't want me anymore," Malfoy answered. There was no trace of emotion in his voice.  
"Well, their mistake," said Harry carefully. "Don't you miss flying?"  
"Yes, I do," said Malfoy longingly. "But it's not the same without Quidditch practice."  
They finished their essays and Harry stood up.  
"Thanks," he said.  
"You owe me one," Malfoy answered with a small smile.  
  
When Harry walked back to the portrait hole he wondered why he felt so uneasy. It felt like an odd sense of foreboding. Harry frowned. Professor Trelawney would be really proud of him, all right.

Draco watched Harry leave, and his smile faded. Little did Harry know that he would never be able to return that favour. By tomorrow it would be too late...  
  
Harry's anxiety grew all afternoon and all evening, and by bedtime he was so wound up that he couldn't possibly sleep. He lay in bed, his mind whirling, and finally he got up and fetched his invisibility cloak. Leaving the door slightly ajar so the sound of it closing wouldn't wake his roommates, Harry walked aimlessly through the corridors, stopped and looked out of the window. The window was facing south, and Harry could see the lake far below. The rain fell and scattered the otherwise mirror-blank surface. A flash of lightning revealed a person standing by the edge of the cliff, next to the stairs, heavy robes billowing in the strong wind.  
'He's standing awfully close to the edge,' Harry thought nervously. 'Wait! That silver-blond hair... Close to the edge... Oh no!'  
"_Accio Firebolt!_"  
  
He lifted his gaze from the rocky shore far, far beneath him and turned his face upwards. It was a stormy night, rain splashed on his cheeks, and his blond hair and robes were ruffled by the wind. This fall would only be the final part of a fall that begun a long time ago. He didn't leave a letter. There was no one to read it; no one would miss him, and there was nothing to say. When he was younger he would imagine his own death, and how sad everyone would be, and how they would cry at his funeral. Children have so many illusions. They think that people care about other people just because they are human beings, but no; some people don't count. A Malfoy on the wrong side, for example. It was time to end this, to escape the nightmare that was his life. He had thought about this a long time. There was nothing to hold him back. He was almost curious about what was going to happen. Maybe someone was waiting for him... Dracosighed. What if he became a ghost, haunting the boy's bathroom? Moaning Malfoy. He almost chuckled. _Am I insane?_ Death is only a new great adventure. Was this the right decision? Yes, life wasn't worth it anymore. He took a deep breath and shifted his weight... And suddenly a voice called out through the storm.   
"NO!"   
Something flew past him and came to a halt in the air in front of him. Draco was so surprised that he took a few steps back, giving Harry enough room to dismount his broom and step between Draco and the edge. He grabbed Draco's arms and pushed him further back**, **away from the jagged drop.  
"Potter," he said between clenched teeth. "Get lost!"  
"No! I won't let you!"  
Draco struggled to get loose, but Harry threw him down and pinned him to the ground.  
"Why do you care?" Draco shouted, furious.  
"It's your fucking _life_, that's why!" Harry shouted back, equally angry.  
Draco stopped fighting, and fell back on the ground. Tears started to trickle down his cheeks. He hoped Harry wouldn't notice. At least it was raining. He was taught never to be weak, and _never_ when anyone could see it. But no, it was too late to hold it back. Harry heard a couple of quiet sobs, and he didn't know what to do.  
"It's all right," hesaid gently.  
"No, it's not," Draco hissed.  
"It will be," Harry promised.  
"It's too late!" Draco sobbed, and began crying for real this time.  
Harry wanted to comfort him, so he put an arm around the other boy's shoulders. Eventually, when Draco's crying subsided, Harry said:  
"We should get you inside. You're completely soaked."  
"Who cares?"  
"_I_ care."  
He helped Draco get up and grabbed his broomstick. He walked Draco back to the Slytherin dormitories in the dungeons.  
"You sure you'll be all right?"  
Draco dropped his eyes and nodded.  
"See you," said Harry and headed back to his own dormitory.  
  
Harry remembered his second year at Hogwarts, when everyone thought that he was the Heir of Slytherin. He remembered how good it felt to have someone who believed in him and trusted him. How good it felt to have friends. What would it be like to face it alone, like Malfoy had to? Harry didn't quite understand why everyone hated him. He didn't. But Malfoy always seemed so strong and self-sufficient. Could that be all? Was that enough to make him suicidal? He had to find out if he wanted to save him.  
  
Monday morning came, and during the day Harry started to form a plan. After dinner he made up an excuse for Ron and Hermione, who barely noticed, and went in the direction of the dungeons. Halfway there he hid partially behind a suit of armour and waited. When Malfoy eventually passed by, Harry grabbed his sleeve and pulled him with him into an empty classroom.  
"Wha..." Malfoy began, but Harry interrupted him.  
"Shh."  
He checked that no one had seen them and closed the door.  
"We need to talk."  
"_I_ don't need to talk to _you_," Malfoy answered irritably.  
"Please," Harry said. "You know I won't tell anyone."  
Silence.  
"All right," he said finally. "What do you want?"  
"Why did you do it?"  
"It's none of your business!"  
"I'm making it my business," Harry stated.  
Draco didn't know what it was that persuaded him to unburden his mind to Harry, perhaps it was just that someone was willing to listen. He started pacing.  
"Do you know what it's like to make a sacrifice, Potter? To let go of the things that you treasure the most? Voldemort wasn't happy with my father's actions the years when he was thought to be dead, as you know. He had to prove his loyalty again and again. Voldemort had his eyes on our family all the time, searching for the slightest trace of disloyalty. And then I had enough of it; I refused to become a Death Eater and stayed at Hogwarts. His vengeance came quickly. He couldn't get me, but he killed my mother and father and destroyed my childhood home. And it was my fault."  
"No, Draco! It wasn't your fault. It was Voldemort's fault! You did the right thing."  
"What _is_ the right thing?"  
"Voldemort was evil. You turned away from that."  
"I know it was the right thing to do, that's why I did it. Because I believed that perhaps justice exists, and loyalty, and courage. So I did 'the right thing'. And you know what? There is no fucking difference! There's only pain."  
"No, there's not," said Harry softly. "There's trust... and friendship."  
"Not for a Malfoy."  
"Yes, I believe there is."  
"Potter, have you been using your eyes?"  
**"**Have _you_ beenusing _your_ eyes?" Harry replied.  
Malfoy was quiet for a while.  
"Are you offering me your friendship?"  
"Yes," Harry replied and held out his hand.   
Both boys were acutely aware of the similarity to the situation six years ago, on the train. But now they were two very different people, and Draco took Harry's hand and pressed it.  
"Can I call you Harry, then?" he asked.  
"Of course, if I can call you Draco," Harry said, and smiled.  
Draco smiled back. It was a very small smile, but a genuine one.  
  
Next chapter: Moment Of My Life   
Draco is happy and the other Slytherins are pissed.


	4. Moment of My Life

Title: Golden Thread Of Trust   
Author: Marian of the Faeries   
Rating: PG13   
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowlings created and owns all characters and their surroundings. Except for the one I invented myself.   
Warnings: Some cursing, slash, and depressing thoughts...   
Summary: The war is over. Harry is empty and Draco is lost in a whirlwind of emotions he can't handle. Can and will they help each other? Harry/Draco *slash*.  
  
Chapter 4: Moment of My Life  
  
The change in Draco was almost imperceptible, but Harry thought that he seemed a little more relaxed and perhaps a little bit more open than before when they sat in the library that evening, doing their homework. It was actually quite pleasant to do homework with Draco, compared to doing it alone, or with Ron and Hermione. Draco always seemed to know all kinds of interesting and funny things about the subjects they were studying. They had been sitting there, talking, for hours, much to Madam Pinch's chagrin, when Ron and Hermione entered, holding hands.  
"Hi Harry. Hi Malfoy," said Hermione, taking in the situation with one glance. "What are you doing?"  
"Defence Against the Dark Arts homework," Harry answered.  
"Really?" said Ron. "He's throwing Unforgivables at you, and you're trying to deflect them?"  
"Ron, cut it _out_!" said Harry firmly. He had noticed that Draco had flinched when Ron mentioned the Unforgivable curses.  
"I just can't understand why you're sitting at the same table as that slimy, cowardly..."  
"Ron! If you can't keep your big mouth shut, then leave! We'll talk to each other later."  
"Fine," Ron countered, and left.  
Hermione looked as if she wanted to say something, looking back and forth between Harry and Ron. Then she followed Ron with an apologetic glance at Harry.   
"You didn't have to do that," said Draco quietly.  
"Yes, I did. Ron has a brain, he just doesn't use it sometimes."  
Draco smiled. He had a lot of questions, but the most important was: why?  
  
Harry was late the next morning to Double Potions because he had needed to look for his homework. When he entered the classroom everyone was already paired up with someone else, except Malfoy, everyone's last choice. But Harry just smiled at Draco and sat down next to him.  
"Morning, Draco."  
"Hi, Harry. You're lucky. Snape is also late."  
Harry noticed that Ron demonstratively turned his back to them and refused to look at Draco.  
"Did you speak to Weasley yesterday?"  
"Um... yes, but he's being pig-headed. He can't see why I would want more friends than just him and Hermione. Can you imagine that they didn't even noticed that I was gone yesterday? Some friends they are."  
"Well, they seem a bit preoccupied with each other."  
"Hmph. To put it mildly."  
Draco found that he actually enjoyed having this little nonsensical conversation with Harry. That little spark of hope that he had felt the day they apologised to each other had grown now. Maybe it was worth waiting just to see what this developed into. Harry seemed to take this friendship business very seriously...  
Draco smiled.  
Harry smiled back.  
Professor Snape entered the classroom, and he didn't smile. Scowling, he instructed them to start brewing their Veritaserum. Draco hoped anxiously that they didn't have to test it at the end of the lesson. He'd just started to enjoy Harry's and his tentative friendship, and he didn't want to think about what would happen if he started to reveal his secrets. For example, what his father made him do when he was trained to become a Death Eater, before he took a stand. Or what actually caused the unfortunate demise of Pansy Parkinson. Or the way Harry made him feel when he smiled at him... Too many secrets.  
The potion was very complicated, and Harry and Draco had to concentrate very hard to get everything right. Professor Snape stalked the classroom, sending sneering comments in various students' directions. He bent over Harry and Draco's cauldron.  
"Excellent teamwork, gentlemen," he commented in his velvet voice. "I'm surprised." But something in Snape's voice told Draco that he wasn't, really. He wondered if Snape knew more than he pretended. Fortunately, they didn't have to drink the potion, and Draco felt very relieved.  
"Hey, Draco, would you like to practice some Quidditch with me tonight?"  
"Sure," Draco answered before he realised that it might have been a bad idea.  
Quidditch... The primary field of their rivalry.  
  
After dinner they met outside the changing rooms, Harry in his scarlet Gryffindor Quidditch robes, and Draco in nondescript black. Draco saw Harry's questioning look.  
"These are my robes I use when I practice at home," he explained.  
Harry wondered why he didn't use his Slytherin robes; he _was_ a Slytherin after all.  
"I'm out of practice," Draco confessed. "I'm afraid I will be no match for you."  
"It's all right," said Harry. "Normally I practice with the team, but I thought it would be better training with a little competition. And it's much more fun."  
Draco grinned evilly at him.  
"What are we waiting for?"  
Harry opened the wooden crate and released the Golden Snitch. It hovered in the air between them for a moment before it disappeared somewhere above the Quidditch field. The boys mounted their brooms, shot off into the air and started looking for the Snitch. The game that followed was intense. Draco might have been out of practice, but he was an excellent flyer and he had achieved great skill in the five years that he was the Slytherin seeker.  
  
Harry swore under his breath. They had caught sight of the Snitch a couple of times, but in their struggle to keep the other from getting it they lost it again. It was getting dark, and soon it would be downright impossible to see the tiny Snitch. Harry saw a flash of gold in the corner of his eye and spun around on his Firebolt, but Draco had seen it first. At lightning speed he went after it, and so did Harry. Harry was closing in on Draco, and suddenly he saw a small change in the flying pattern of the ball that meant it was going to change direction. Unfortunately, Draco had seen it too, and anticipated its move slightly before Harry. The Snitch dove and Draco followed, diving with breakneck speed, the ground approaching dangerously fast. At the last moment he caught the tiny ball and steered upwards, a little too late, because the tail of his broom hit the ground. The jerking movement caused him to lose his balance, and he fell off the broom with the Golden Snitch still clutched tightly in his hand.  
"Are you all right?" Harry asked the dazed Slytherin.  
"Of course," Draco said, snapping out of his confused state. "I caught it! I beat Harry Potter to the Snitch! Ha-hah!"  
"You don't have to get all worked up over it," Harry grumbled.  
"What! This is the moment of my life! You wouldn't deny me that, would you? I beat Harry Potter to the Snitch!"  
  
Harry followed the overjoyed Slytherin back to the castle, and the badly needed showers, rolling his eyes at the more exaggerated outbursts. He couldn't help smiling at his new friend, he had never seen him look so happy. On second thought, he had never seen him look happy until now. He was like a ray of light. A silver moonbeam...  
They met up with Ron and Hermione in the Entrance Hall, but Draco left for the dungeons immediately.  
"Bye, Harry!" he called. "See you!"  
Harry smiled.  
"Harry," said Hermione, "why is Malfoy... bouncing?"  
Harry began to laugh. Well, Draco _was_ actually sort of... bouncing. 'Strange person.'  
"He's happy because he beat me to the Snitch."  
"Really? How could he do that?"  
"Luck... and perhaps just a bit skill," Harry confessed.  
"Oh."  
"But I won't let him do that again," Harry stated with a smile.  
'Even though I like to see him happy... Hey! Where did that come from?'  
  
The next morning at breakfast, Harry watched as Draco entered the Great Hall, with a small smile still on his face. He sat down at the Slytherin table, but no one as much as looked at him.  
"Things look a bit too peaceful over at the Slytherin table, don't you think?" Harry commented to his friends.  
"Hmm, yes, now that you mention it," said Ron with twinkling eyes. "What do you have in mind?"  
"Make them regret that they kicked Draco out of the house team."  
"They did that?" Hermione asked. "How stupid!"  
"Yes, I know," said Harry with a mischievous grin and strolled over to the Slytherin table.  
"Wait a minute," said Seamus. "Since when did Harry start to call him _Draco_?"  
  
"Hi there, Malfoy!" Harry said loudly, and patted his shoulder. "I never congratulated you yesterday."  
Draco seemed to understand what Harry was up to, because he grinned and answered:  
"It's all right, Potter. You looked a bit... beaten."  
Harry sighed dramatically. All the Slytherins pretended they were not listening intently to every word they said.   
"Well, I must admit I'm impressed. No one's beaten me to the Snitch since Cedric Diggory."  
"That doesn't count," Draco offered generously, "the Dementors won that game, not Diggory."  
"All right. No one's _ever _beaten me to the Snitch, except you of course."  
Blaise Zabini started to cough violently. Another Slytherin patted his back.  
"Your replacement on the team must be really talented," Harry guessed.  
"Certainly."  
"Well, Zabini, I'll be on my guard when we play the Slytherins, then," Harry told the scowling captain of the Slytherin team.  
  
Draco met Harry and the others outside the Great Hall when they left.  
"Did you see the look on their faces? That was brilliant!"  
"I know," Harry grinned. "That's what friends are for."  
"Zabini's going to be trouble, though," said Draco, frowning.  
"Yeah, he's the new leader of Gryffindor's Tormentors," said Ron.  
The other Gryffindors started to air their opinions of the dark Slytherin, but Harry dragged Draco aside.  
"Do you think he will trouble _you_?"  
"I don't know. I mean, I wasn't a Death Eater, but I'm still the best Dark Wizard of the lot, and they know it. They're scared."  
"Dumbledore won't let you use the Dark Arts," said Harry disapprovingly.  
"Well, I think I can defend myself if it comes to physical fighting as well," said Draco and shrugged.  
"How does it feel to use the Dark Arts?" Harry asked quietly.  
Draco eyed him.  
"You can do terrible things with Dark magic. But the magic in itself, it's just magic. Some of it makes you feel very powerful. Some of it is extremely painful." He shuddered. "It can easily corrupt you. But it's the intent that makes it evil."  
"I see, I think," said Harry.  
"Do you have a problem with that? That I was trained in the Dark Arts? Because I didn't like it, if that helps."  
"No, I don't have a problem with that. If you had all that, and turned away from it, I think that shows a lot more about you than if you never had been trained in the Dark Arts."  
"Never thought about it that way."  
"I did."  
"Well, thanks. It means a lot to me."  
As he headed alone towards the dungeons, Draco swore under his breath. What was it with Harry, that he always got under his skin? Where was his usual self-control? If this was going where he thought it was going he had some thinking to do tonight.  
  
Next chapter: Throwing All Cautions To The Winds  
Draco's secrets are revealed.


	5. Throwing All Cautions to the Winds

Title: Golden Thread Of Trust   
Author: Marian of the Faeries   
Rating: PG13   
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowlings created and owns all characters and their surroundings. Except for the one I invented myself. Quoted lyrics by Jon Anderson.  
Warnings: Some cursing, slash, and depressing thoughts...   
Summary: The war is over. Harry is empty and Draco is lost in a whirlwind of emotions he can't handle. Can and will they help each other? Harry/Draco *slash*.  
  
Chapter 5: Throwing All Cautions To The Winds  
  
_I will show you a necklace  
Where the pearls would all be lost  
Without the thread between together  
This would be the golden thread of trust  
  
Yes - "Magnification"_  
  
Slightly irritated, Harry roamed the corridors of the castle in his invisibility cloak, trying to think of somewhere to go. Finally, he settled for a small room in the Astronomy Tower, where he used to go when he wanted to be alone. Most people didn't know how to find it, because it was protected with a password. Harry had found it with the Marauders Map, of course. As he entered the room he saw someone sitting huddled up on the windowsill. Someone he recognised. He took off his cloak.  
"Hi, Draco. What are you doing?"  
"Thinking," Draco answered dismissively.  
Harry sat down on the floor beneath him and waited for him to finish thinking.  
  
Draco was contemplating his own courage. He had a lot to lose. He had a lot of secrets, terrible secrets, and if he was going to be Harry's friend he knew that he couldn't keep them from him for long. And there was the possibility that Harry wouldn't want to be his friend if he found out about them. But the only other option was to push Harry away and refuse to be his friend. And Draco didn't want to do that. For some reason he trusted Harry, maybe because he always was so honest. Draco hadn't trusted anyone since his parents died. He decided to throw all his cautions to the winds. It wasn't like him, but then he didn't feel like being himself anymore, anyway.  
"What are you doing here, Harry?"  
"Ehm... I thought it would be a good idea to avoid my dormitory right now."  
"Why?" Draco asked, curious.  
Harry blushed.  
"Ron and Hermione are having sex in _our_ room, and I can't go to bed."  
"How do you know?"  
"I could _hear_ that."  
Draco laughed, then asked:  
"Have you ever had sex?"  
"What? Why do you ask?"  
"I just realised I don't know anything about you."  
"Well, I haven't. Have you?"  
"Once. With Pug-faced Pansy. But I won't do that again."  
"At least not with a _girl,_" he added quietly, but Harry heard him.  
'Really? That knowledge could be useful!' Harry thought.  
'Why Harry?' a little voice in his head asked. 'Are you planning to seduce him?'  
Harry pushed away the disturbing thought.  
"Why her?"  
"I was pretty drunk", Draco confessed.  
It was Harry's turn to laugh.  
Draco sighed deeply.  
"What's the matter?" Harry asked.  
"You know what you said today, when we talked about my education in the Dark Arts? That you didn't have a problem with it? _I_ have a problem with it, because you have _no_ idea what I did. What I am."  
"Do you want to tell me?"  
"I think you should know, if you want to... be my friend."  
"I do."  
Draco took a deep breath.  
"I have been trained in the Dark Arts since I was a child. It began with Dark Potions and curses, simple things, but still, if anyone had found out... The summer before we began our fifth year my father started to teach me more complicated things like wandless magic and spirit magic.  
"What's spirit magic?" Harry asked.  
"You work with certain kinds of spirits. It's forbidden because they're so difficult to control and you can never be sure of their intent. More often than not they're causing trouble. But they're good at creating glamours and things like that. Problem is, if they take a liking to you they can start doing things even if you don't want them to. And to another wizard, that is like screaming 'I practice the Dark Arts'."  
"Does Dumbledore know about that?"  
"Yes. I've told him most things about my training."  
"But not everything."  
"No."  
"Go on."  
"This is the difficult part," Draco mumbled. "The summer before the war started father wanted to teach me torturing methods."  
Harry gasped.  
"I didn't want to, but I felt I had to," said Draco desperately. "I had no choice! I had nightmares, still have. But it doesn't end with that. After that I was taught the Unforgivables."  
"Oh no!"  
"They started with the Imperius curse. They made me practice on a muggle they had captured. He begged me to stop. I felt sick. Then they told me to do the Cruciatus curse, but I refused. My own father put me under the curse until I begged him to stop, but he continued almost to the point where the mind breaks. And then they made me to it to the other man."  
He started to shake, and a shocked Harry sat down beside him and put his arms around him.  
"It's all right," he said soothingly.  
"Do you know what Cruciatus feels like?"  
Harry nodded.  
"It's even worse to _do_ it."  
"Was that what you wanted to tell me?"  
"There's more."  
Harry braced himself.  
"That Christmas all the Death Eaters and Voldemort had a large meeting in our home. Pansy was there. I think she had come up with some plan to be neutral in the war, but she tried to blackmail Voldemort, and that was _not_ a good idea. My father saw this as an excellent stage in my training, so he told me to throw the killing curse at her. I couldn't do that! You understand, don't you?" he asked Harry, with tears in his eyes.  
"Of course I understand," said Harry. "I couldn't have done that either."  
"They were very angry with me. Voldemort told me that my weakness would make her suffer so much more." Draco sobbed. "They tortured her to death. She was screaming for hours. I thought I would go insane at first, hearing that sound in my dreams every night, but now I can almost forget about it, most of the time. I should've killed her. That would have been more humane."  
"No one should have to make that choice!" Harry said, close to tears.  
He still had his arms around the other boy.  
"And then I betrayed my parents, causing their death," Draco continued. "Now you know what I am."  
"Yes, you're Draco Malfoy, my friend, and a very good person."  
Draco sniffed.  
"But how can you _say_ that?"  
"Draco," said Harry and looked into his grey eyes, which were a bit red from crying. "If you had laughed when you told me this, I would have hated your guts. But not now."  
Draco was suddenly aware of Harry's arms surrounding him and wondered at how comfortable it felt. He sighed and rested his head on Harry's shoulder.  
"It feels better now that I told you about it."  
Harry felt Draco's silky hair tickle his neck.  
"Good. That was the point, wasn't it?"  
Draco laughed.  
"You're impossible."  
"How did you find this room?" Harry wondered.  
"In my second year, a seventh-year told me. I haven't told anyone."  
"Neither have I."  
"Good. We should have it to ourselves then."  
Harry just sat there, enjoying the body contact and closeness of the other. It had been such a long time since he was close to someone. He memorised Draco's scent; he smelt clean, and of something sweet, and under that something decidedly masculine. He decided that maybe he was quite happy after all.  
Draco wasn't thinking, but he was relieved that someone was there, someone who could take away the pain, if only for a moment.  
"Harry, you've got friends who really care about you. Do you tell them everything?"  
"No," Harry answered reluctantly.  
"So there's things you never told anyone as well?"  
"Yeah..."  
"Would you tell them to me?"  
Harry thought about it.  
"I s'pose... I haven't _done_ so many terrible things. It's more what I've seen, what people did to me, what I've been thinking..."  
And Harry found himself voicing his darkest thoughts, and even as he spoke his worries, doubts and feelings of guilt melted away under the warmth of his friend's quiet reassurance. Even his worst fears seemed much smaller than before. Draco's silvery eyes told him without words that he understood, and Harry knew that not many people could have, simply because they had been sheltered from certain things. Ron and Hermione would never understand. Dumbledore was so powerful, so old and wise, he would never understand the unreasonable fear Harry still could feel. But Draco understood.  
  
Thursday came, and Hermione decided to have a talk with Harry.  
"Harry, you've been spending a lot of time with Malfoy lately, right?"  
"Yes, I have."  
"Do you mind if I ask why you two suddenly started to be friends?"  
"Don't know really," said Harry, slightly modifying the truth. He had his reasons, but he wasn't going to tell Hermione. "We understand each other."  
"He has changed a lot, hasn't he?"  
"You wouldn't recognise him."  
"Ron and I thought about having a small party in the common room tomorrow evening. It's our anniversary, you know."  
Harry lit up.  
"Oh, I forgot. Good idea!"  
"Why don't you invite Mr. Mystery Man, then?"  
"You think so? Wouldn't the others mind?"  
"I don't think so. You know, at least one third of the younger girls have a crush on him."   
"Really? Kind of hard to imagine..."  
"Why so? He's really good-looking!"  
"I know, but still! When you know him... Girls are strange."  
"Not just girls for that matter. Seamus is always telling how he thinks Malfoy is just drop dead gorgeous when he wants to make Dean jealous."  
"Okay, I'll ask him, but don't expect him to be all charming and social. He's not feeling very well, you know."  
"I understood that much."  
"What do you think Ron will say?  
"Don't worry about that. I'll talk to him."   
  
Next chapter: That's What Friends Are For  
About the party in Gryffindor Tower, and Blaise Zabini, who's causing trouble.


	6. That's What Friends Are For

Title: Golden Thread Of Trust   
Author: Marian of the Faeries   
Rating: PG13   
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowlings created and owns all characters and their surroundings. Except for the one I invented myself.  
Warnings: Some cursing, slash, and depressing thoughts...   
Summary: The war is over. Harry is empty and Draco is lost in a whirlwind of emotions he can't handle. Can and will they help each other? Harry/Draco *slash*.  
  
Chapter 6: That's What Friends Are For  
  
Harry and Draco were finishing their homework in the library.  
"Draco, what are you doing tonight?"  
"Nothing in particular, as usual. Why?"  
"Ron and Hermione are having an anniversary party tonight. Want to come?"  
"I'm invited to a secret Gryffindor party?" Draco laughed.  
"Yes. Hermione told me to invite you."  
"I don't know..."  
Harry gave him a sly look.  
"If you don't show up your admirers will be disappointed."  
"Look who's talking! Wait a minute. What admirers?"  
"I really shouldn't be telling you this, you know."  
"Harry! Come on!"  
"About one third of the younger girls and some of the boys as well, or so Hermione says."  
Draco snorted.  
"Hah! They don't stand a chance!"  
"Why not?"  
"They're Gryffindors," Draco said, as if that answered everything.  
"What's wrong with Gryffindors?" Harry asked, offended.  
"They're insufferable. Company excepted, of course."  
Harry smiled a little.  
"Will you come?"  
"All right. Just have to leave my things in my dormitory."  
  
On their way to the dungeons they bumped into Blaise Zabini.  
"Malfoy, what are you doing in the company of..." his eyes flicked in Harry's direction, "...Harry Potter?"  
"None of your business, Zabini."  
Harry crossed his arms over his chest. Zabini measured them both with a glance, and since both Harry and Draco were considerably bigger than he was, he reluctantly stepped aside. As they walked away Harry could almost feel the Slytherin's glare on his back, but he didn't turn around.  
  
Harry waited outside while Draco quickly put his books and scrolls in his trunk. When they finally got to Gryffindor Tower and entered the common room, the party had already begun. The party was not very wild, for being a Gryffindor one, since Professor McGonagall kept popping in to make sure there was no rule breaking.  
"Cosy place," Draco remarked, "and warm. Not that I don't prefer the cold and damp dungeons, of course."  
Harry laughed.  
"I don't see Ron or Hermione yet, but I'll keep an eye out for them."  
They seated themselves in two armchairs in front of the fireplace, where a fire was crackling cheerfully. With an unspoken agreement they didn't join the bigger groups of people who were playing games or having loud conversations at the other tables. Harry had the feeling that quite a few of the other Gryffindors glanced in their direction, but he didn't care right then. They still sat there, talking quietly, when Ron came up to them and flopped into an armchair.  
"Hi Ron. Where's Hermione?"  
"She won't be long. We were just... celebrating a bit in private," he replied and grinned.  
"Congratulations," said Draco solemnly.  
"Thanks," said Ron, a bit surprised.  
"Hi guys," said Hermione smiling.  
"Hi Hermione! Wow, you've really dressed up!" said Harry.  
Hermione wore a very beautiful, floaty, blue robe.  
"It's my dressrobe from fourth year," she said. "I had to transfigure it to a bigger size..."  
"I remember," said Ron. "You wore it for the Yule ball, and I was so jealous because you  
went with Krum."  
When Ron mentioned the Yule ball, Draco visibly paled and hid his face in his hands. Harry put a hand on his shoulder.  
"Are you okay?"  
Draco didn't answer. Harry tugged at his arm.  
"Come," he said and dragged Draco up the stairs to his dormitory.  
"I'm sorry," said Draco when they sat down on Harry's bed. "I'm ruining everything."  
"No, it's all right. What's the matter?"  
Draco was trembling, and he looked very pale.  
"I have nightmares about the Yule ball."  
"I know what it's like. I react just the same when anyone mentions the last battle..."  
"Really?" That seemed to comfort Draco.  
"Yeah. Tell me about it."  
"Pansy and I are dancing, and she's wearing that awful, pink, frilly robe. Then suddenly I get this strange feeling that something is horribly wrong, and she falls down on the floor in a puddle of blood. Her dress is torn, she has cuts and wounds everywhere, and she's screaming... And then my wand is pointing at her and they're saying "Kill her. Don't show any weakness." And there's blood on my hands, blood everywhere..."  
Harry put his arms around Draco and drew him closer. He tried to soothe him, and held him until his trembling subsided.  
Someone knocked on the door, and Harry left Draco to see who it was.  
"Harry, is everything all right?" he heard Hermione's voice asking worriedly.  
"Yeah, we'll just be a minute, okay?"  
Harry went back to Draco, who looked around the room.  
"So this is where you sleep," he said. "Looks a lot like our dormitories, except that we have green hangings. Who do you share with?"  
"Ron."  
"Figures," said Draco with a smile. "I used to share with Crabbe and Goyle, but since they left I have my room all to myself."  
"Ah, what a luxury," said Harry. "Then you don't have to put up with your friends bringing their girlfriends and forgetting to cast a silencing spell."  
Draco laughed.  
"That's right. And no snoring."  
"Are you ready to go downstairs?" Harry asked.  
"Yeah, sure," said Draco, and stood up.   
  
They went back to the common room and the party. All in all it was a very pleasant evening. Ron, Hermione and Draco managed to have a friendly conversation without insulting each other even once.  
Draco had changed so much. He didn't care if Granger was a Mudblood anymore, she was Harry's friend, and that was all that mattered. He didn't care about Weasley's money, or lack thereof, either. Money wasn't everything, just look at his own father. Lots of money, but no heart.   
  
A lot of people, mostly girls, wanted to talk to them, but to Harry's relief they turned their attention towards Draco instead of him. Something was disturbing him, though. He caught himself wishing that they would go away and leave Draco alone, he was _Harry's_ friend, after all. He heard how ridiculous he sounded, but the thoughts were still there. He made sure to keep an eye on the girls, just in case.  
  
Draco noticed that Harry kept glancing at the chattering girls surrounding them. He looked almost... jealous. Yes, that was it. Was he jealous because Draco stole his admirers? Not likely. Harry had told him that he didn't like to be the centre of attention. But it was either that, or Harry was jealous of... the girls! Interesting thought. He grinned at Harry, and he smiled back.  
'It feels like we share a secret, like we share something that belongs to us alone... S'pose that's what it like to have friends,' he mused.  
  
The fun ended when Professor McGonagall caught sight of Draco and firmly told him that he'd better get back to his own dormitories _now_, before curfew. Draco said goodbye to everyone and went down to the dungeons.  
He actually felt better than he had in ages. He was almost happy. That night he didn't have any of his usual nightmares. Instead, he dreamed of the Gryffindor Tower, the fire, all the people, and of Harry holding him.

* * *

Nothing lasts forever. A week later they were walking down a deserted corridor in the dungeons, on their way to the Slytherin common room. As they rounded a corner they discovered that they stood face to face with a large group of Slytherins with Blaise Zabini as leader, blocking their way.  
"Well, well, who have we here?" said Zabini menacingly. "Potter and Malfoy. The Boy Who Lived and the Traitor. Betrayed the Malfoy name and his House. You should stick to the Hufflepuffs, Malfoy, or the Gryffindors that you seem to prefer.   
"Contemplating a new career as a Sorting Hat, Zabini?" said Draco, frowning. "Now let us pass."  
"Hardly."  
Zabini pulled out his wand, and so did Draco and Harry.  
"_Expelliarmus,_" Zabini roared, and Draco's wand flew straight into his hand.  
"Zabini, stop this immediately," said Draco with barely contained rage.  
"I don't think so. I find this game amusing," said Zabini, and looked like a cat playing with a mouse. "Feel like tap-dancing, Traitor? I think I should teach you a lesson."  
"No," said Harry and stepped forward. "You shall do no such thing."  
Draco groaned. Stupid, brave Gryffindor. Why did he have to interfere?  
Zabini turned to Harry, pointed Draco's wand at him and said:  
"_Crucio._"  
Harry fell to his knees, screaming with pain. Draco was paralysed. He knew what to do. He had promised himself not to do it again, ever. But he had to, to save Harry. He started to chant in a low voice that slowly increased in volume. He finished the invocation and started the instruction. The Slytherins started to look nervous and one of them alerted Zabini, who released Harry and stared unbelieving at Draco. Draco knew what he was seeing. Winds were starting to circulate the air around Draco, making his robes billow and his hair flow, as the winds became more and more violent. The air around him shimmered with a green light, and his usually pale form was now a glowing silver shape with black eyes, radiating pure evil. A beautiful yet horrible demon. In the air, seemingly from nowhere, you could hear human voices, screaming with pain and madness, as in the Muggle stories of Hell, and a voice penetrating, violating your mind, whispering: _"Come to me, I will consume you, I will devour you. I will seduce you and have your soul; I will eat you alive and make you scream with pain. I will make you mine. Come to me."_  
The Slytherins started running, screaming with terror, the cowards. Draco thanked the spirits, and ended the incantation.  
"Draco?" Harry whispered, wide-eyed, and obviously in pain.  
"It's all right, Harry," said Draco as he sank to the ground shaking with exhaustion. Harry was coughing up blood, and Draco knew he should be helping him, but his strength was completely drained. He barely had strength enough to breathe. He turned his face to Harry, who was unconscious now. He managed to move his hand over to Harry's wrist and feel his pulse. He seemed to be all right. He thought he heard voices, but he wasn't sure; they seemed so far away and everything felt so unreal. He didn't care anymore.  
  
"Lupin," Snape called, quickening his pace so he could catch up with the other man. "What's happened?"   
"The wards detected the use of an Unforgivable curse and advanced Dark Magic further down the corridor," the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor answered.  
Snape paled a little and pulled out his wand. When they got there they found Harry Potter unconscious, the floor beside him stained with blood, and more blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Draco Malfoy lay beside him, trembling and staring unseeing at them. Snape hurried forward and grabbed his shoulders.  
"Draco!" he said. "What happened?"  
The boy looked at him with eyes that were glazed over.  
"Crucio," he whispered, and fainted.   
  
Next chapter: The Truth  
What conclusions will the teachers draw? What did Draco do? All is revealed in chapter 7...


	7. The Truth

Title: Golden Thread Of Trust   
Author: Marian of the Faeries   
Rating: PG13   
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowlings created and owns all characters and their surroundings. Except for the one I invented myself.  
Warnings: Some cursing, slash, and depressing thoughts...   
Summary: The war is over. Harry is empty and Draco is lost in a whirlwind of emotions he can't handle. Can and will they help each other? Harry/Draco *slash*.  
  
Chapter 7: The Truth  
  
Harry woke up, slightly disoriented, and discovered that he ached all over. He felt like he had been pounded on with a large steak hammer. Letting out a groan, he opened his eyes slowly, and found that everything was a blur. He reached out for his glasses on the bedside table and put them on. The familiar surroundings of the Hospital Wing came into focus. The memories of what had happened suddenly came back, causing a gasp to escape his lips.  
"Harry, how are you feeling?" a familiar voice said, concerned.  
"Professor Lupin!" Harry cried out, relieved. "I'm only fine. How's Draco?"  
"Oh, don't worry about him. We've taken good care of him, all right," the teacher answered grimly.  
Harry was confused.  
"The last thing I remember is him collapsing next to me. Was he hurt?"  
"No, only exhausted. But he won't be troubling you any more, Harry. They're keeping him confined until the trial."  
The implications of what the teacher just said slowly sunk in.  
"No! He's innocent! You've got the wrong guy!"  
Remus Lupin frowned.  
"Harry, all the evidence is pointing at him, not to mention the witnesses..."  
"Witnesses? Hey, I was there too! Draco _saved_ me! What did the others say?"  
He already knew the answer, of course.  
"That he attacked you, and used the Cruciatus curse on you."  
"It's not true! I have to see Dumbledore about this!"  
  
When the two of them reached Dumbledore's office, Harry felt a bit dizzy, and he gratefully sank into an armchair. The Headmaster of Hogwarts sat behind his desk with a grave and sorrowful expression on his face. Snape was also there, scowling as usual, but looking worn and worried. Draco sat in the chair next to him, his face a rigid mask, revealing nothing of what he was thinking. All Harry's efforts to make him meet his gaze were in vain.  
"Harry," said Dumbledore. "I'm glad to see that you're up and about. We were just examining the evidence." He took something from the desk.  
"Draco, can you confirm that this is indeed your wand?"  
Draco said nothing, and his jaw was set in a way that told them that he wasn't going to either. Dumbledore sighed.  
"It is his wand," Snape confirmed.  
Dumbledore nodded and lifted his own wand.  
"_Prior Incantato._"  
A scream resounded in the air around them, and even though it stopped when Dumbledore finished the spell it seemed to linger in the compact silence that followed.  
"We know that the last spell that was cast with Mr. Malfoy's wand was the Cruciatus curse."  
"Professor, Draco didn't do that! How can you _believe_ such a thing?"  
"I don't want to believe that of _any_ of my students. But I can't ignore the evidence, Harry."  
"Well, I am an eyewitness too."  
"And you're asserting Draco Malfoy's innocence?"  
"Yes, I am."  
"Tell us what happened, Harry."  
"We were walking down a corridor when we bumped into a group of Slytherins. They disarmed Draco and started to threaten him, so I stepped in between. That's when they threw the Cruciatus curse at me. Draco scared them away."  
"How exactly did he manage that without his wand?"  
"I don't know, Professor. That was no kind of magic I know of."  
"That was most likely the advanced Dark Magic that my wards detected," said Professor Lupin.  
"Harry, are you absolutely sure that Draco Malfoy was the one who saved you, and that we can trust him?"  
"Yes, I am sure, and I would trust him with my life, Professor."  
This seemed to affect Draco, because he stirred a little in his chair.  
"Well, then," said Dumbledore, and gave Draco his wand back. "The charges against Draco are dropped. But there are still a few things to take care of. What I want to know is: Who _did_ cast the Unforgivable curse?"  
"Blaise Zabini," Harry answered, his voice full of contempt.  
"You two do realise that there is no way to prove that he is guilty, and that he will be getting away with this?"  
Both boys nodded mutely.  
"Now, Mr. Malfoy, I hope that you are aware of the fact that Dark Magic is strictly forbidden to use? Under normal circumstances you would face immediate expulsion."  
"Yes," said Draco proudly.  
"What did you do, exactly?"  
"I used spirit magic to create an illusion. It scared them away."  
"I thought you and I had an agreement that you should not use it?"  
"Yes, Professor," said Draco quietly. "I didn't do it because it was fun, I did it to save Harry. The spirits are never going to leave me alone now, I'm afraid."  
"Professor Dumbledore," said Harry. "What do we do if he tries again? That _is_ quite likely."  
"Draco, how well can you control these spirits?"  
"As well as possible, I guess. In other words, not very well. They like me, though. They would never do anything to hurt me."  
"You have my permission to use it, Draco, but only when in grave danger. You might need it, I'm afraid. Young Zabini must be powerful if he can cast such advanced curses with another's wand. Do you know why he did this?"  
Harry looked at Draco, who turned his face away.  
"He called Draco a traitor to his family and his House, sir."  
Dumbledore sighed.  
"The rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor has always been there, ever since the founding of Hogwarts, but throughout history there have been wizards and witches who could overlook the barriers between the Houses and befriend their customary enemies. Never let old customs of unreasonable hatred come between you."  
The boys and the two teachers left and closed the door behind them, and Albus Dumbledore was left to his thoughts.  
'I hope Hagrid was right when he trusted me to know what I'm doing. This has already caused more trouble than I imagined. Unforgivable curses! I wonder how she accomplished that particular friendship, though. Must have been an extraordinary effort.'   
  
Next chapter: Resistance Is Futile  
The boys are starting to have some disconcerting feelings.


	8. Resistance Is Futile

Title: Golden Thread Of Trust   
Author: Marian of the Faeries   
Rating: PG13   
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowlings created and owns all characters and their surroundings. Except for the one I invented myself. Quoted lyrics from the song "Onward" by Chris Squire. Lyrics from Conflict To An Art by me.  
Warnings: Some cursing, slash, and depressing thoughts...   
Summary: The war is over. Harry is empty and Draco is lost in a whirlwind of emotions he can't handle. Can and will they help each other? Harry/Draco *slash*.  
  
Chapter 8: Resistance Is Futile   
  
This chapter is dedicated to Sianna of the Faeries.  
http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=57678  
  
_Contained in everything I do  
There's a love I feel for you  
Proclaimed in everything I write  
You're the light  
Burning, brightly  
Onward through the night  
Onward through the night  
Onward through the night of my life  
  
Yes - "Onward"_  
  
And time passed, as time has a tendency to do. An evening in early November, Harry lay in his four-poster bed with the hangings closed so that no one could see the troubled look on his face. His feelings, or rather his own involuntary reactions, had begun to disturb him lately. He remembered an evening a couple of weeks ago. It was very cold outside, and even the Gryffindor common room was chilly. Draco had escaped the even colder dungeons and joined Harry and his friends in front of the fireplace. They had been talking and laughing all evening, and Harry and Draco had played a game of wizard chess. Draco won, he always did. He seemed to have the ability to calculate complex strategies depending on Harry's every move, and Harry couldn't really grasp how he could win _every single time_. Harry supposed that he was too impatient to play wizard chess, since everyone could beat him at it. He thought that it would be interesting to watch Ron and Draco play.   
'I wonder who's the better player?'  
There was no animosity between the Gryffindors and Draco anymore, but Draco was always so reserved, almost shy, around them. He seemed to prefer Harry's company. It got late, and Draco told Harry that he'd better go back to his own dormitory. Harry found himself entranced as the tall youth stood up and stretched with cat-like grace. He watched him walk away, noticing for the first time how lithe he was, and how gracefully he moved. He'd never experienced that before; not being able to take his eyes off someone. He'd firmly told himself that it didn't mean anything, and perhaps it didn't. But that wasn't the only time it happened. More and more often he caught himself watching Draco, admiring...  
'No, no, not admiring, certainly not admiring!'  
...his smooth, pale skin, his silver-blond hair that always fell into his face in an adorable way...  
'Adorable? Get out of it!'  
Well, it didn't mean anything.  
'I'm not... No. No! Nooo. Nope. No...'  
Harry's new mantra proved as efficient as counting sheep, and he soon fell asleep.  
  
In another part of the castle, Draco Malfoy was still awake. He sat on the windowsill with a notebook and a quill in his lap, looking down on what he had written. This was yet another of his secrets, and he hadn't told anyone about it, not even Harry. It was a book full of songs. His songs. He had always loved to sing, and his father actually got a singing teacher for him once. It was no use though, Draco never did his exercises regularly. Singing was for pleasure, nothing to be studied and mastered. Still, he had a very pleasant tenor voice, although he only sang when he was alone.  
Writing songs had proven to be strangely therapeutic. It always seemed so much easier to deal with his problems when they were there, on the paper. He got a healthy distance to the emotions when he tried to find the right metaphors, the right rhymes, and the right form. It was like doing a jigsaw puzzle, really. Sometimes all the pieces ended up in the right places, and turned out to form a perfect whole.  
He opened the notebook at the first page. What kind of songs did he write when he was younger, before his life changed so dramatically? They were bitter; they spoke of high expectations, longing, frustration and the doubts that had already begun to form in his young mind. There was one song for Pansy. It spoke about how you think you despise someone, and then, when it's too late, you discover that you'd have done anything to save her. It was his own way of mourning. But words weren't enough to express some things. That terrible period between when he recovered from the shock of his parents' deaths and when Harry saved him, the period that he inwardly had named 'the Darkness', was a time when he had had to write in images. The words he wrote didn't actually mean much, but they conveyed pictures and feelings, and that was all he could do, because no other words would come to him. There was the jubilant song he wrote when Harry offered him his friendship. He turned the page, and the song he wrote tonight confronted him. He had found exactly the right words for the strangely haunting melody, but this time it didn't sort itself out. He was as confused as ever, and the puzzle was nowhere near solving itself. He frowned as he read the last lines written on the page.  
  
_I'm trying to convince myself I don't want you  
No, I don't want you  
But when you make me laugh  
And when you melt my unapproachable heart  
You're making my conflict to an art  
_  
Draco sat in the library, eagerly awaiting his friend's arrival. He looked up and smiled when he saw him enter. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and more recently the centre of his universe. If someone had told him a year ago that his life would look like this today, he would have laughed. Still, here he was, and he wouldn't want to change a thing. Well, maybe one or two things. Harry smiled at him, and he felt his heart skip a beat. That, for example. It had never happened to him before, but he thought he was beginning to understand what was happening, and it was _not_ a good idea.  
"Sorry if I'm late," said Harry. "I had to take a shower after practice."  
"No, it's all right," said Draco.  
'I'm still surprised that he wants to be with me,' he thought. 'What did I do to deserve his friendship?'  
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, and eyed the books and scrolls that were spread all over the table.  
"Divination charts," Draco answered.  
Harry groaned.  
"Oh no. Those take hours to do!"  
"Only if they are very complicated," said Draco, a bit confused.  
Harry laughed.  
"Do you want to know how Ron and I used to do them? We used to fill in the charts, and when the interpretations made no sense we just made it all up."  
Draco laughed.  
"What? And she swallowed that?"  
"Hook, line and sinker," said Harry, grinning, "if there were misfortunes enough. She's been predicting my death since third year. I must disappoint her."  
"You still go by that method?"  
"Well, I guess that we're a bit more sophisticated now. I really try to do them in the correct way, but sometimes I just can't figure it out."  
"You only have to use your imagination," Draco explained.  
Harry grinned.  
"We did!"  
"Well, within the context anyway. Just use your intuition."  
"I don't think I have any intuition."  
Draco snorted.  
"Crap. Everyone's got intuition. You just go by feeling."  
"It doesn't seem very reliable to me," said Harry.  
"It isn't," said Draco and smiled. "I just do it to get good marks in Divination."  
"Well, that's a reason as good as any."  
Harry was very comfortable in Draco's company, but he felt a growing tension in the air. It was almost tangible now. It wasn't negative; it didn't make their conversation strained or anything. It was rather as if the air between them was charged with electricity.  
He could see how Draco tensed, and Harry turned around in his chair to see what he was looking at. He quickly turned around again. Blaise Zabini and some other Slytherin seventh-years entered the library and sat down at a nearby table. Zabini had done unexpectedly little to torment them in the weeks that had passed since the attack, and Harry and Draco had agreed to avoid him for as long as possible. If things started to look dangerous they would strike fast and have the advantage of the element of surprise. Harry knew that the teachers observed Zabini and his crowd more closely than usual, and that might be why Zabini was so careful. Harry was not a fool, he knew Zabini wouldn't let them get away with defeating him in such a humiliating way, running like scared sheep... But Draco had been really frightening, like a demon. He wondered if the spirits could make a person look like an angel. Not that Draco needed it.  
'Hey, where did that come from? Arrgh!'  
He saw that Draco eyed their neighbours warily, and Harry raised his eyebrows questioningly.  
'Do you want to leave?' he tried to ask without words.  
Draco understood and nodded. They gathered their things and left. When the library doors closed behind them, Harry sighed with relief.  
"Gods, it really makes me nervous, not knowing what they're up to."  
"I know," said Draco. "But don't worry, I'll protect you."  
Harry pulled a face.  
They separated reluctantly in the Entrance Hall, each heading to his own dormitory.  
  
Harry found Hermione alone in the common room, and sat down next to her.  
"Hi, Hermione."  
"Hi, Harry," said Hermione and looked up from her book.  
"There's something I wanted to ask you about."  
"Okay. Ask ahead."  
"There's something I don't understand. When I'm with this person I feel something strange. It's like a tension in the air, but it's positive. Do you know what it means?"  
"A tension? You mean like attraction?"  
"No! Not like that!" Harry exclaimed and shot up from his seat.  
Hermione watched him leave, surprised by his strong reaction.  
'Now why would he react like that if it wasn't true? I wonder who it could be?' she thought. Then it dawned on her.  
'Oh.'  
  
Draco sighed. He had resigned to his fate. He knew he was falling in love with Harry, and all attempts to stop it had been futile. His love was bound to be unrequited, of course. Harry was most likely straight, and even if he would fall in love with a guy, it wouldn't be someone like Draco. It would be a nice Gryffindor, someone easy-going and warm-hearted and _good_. So he would hide his feelings. He was a good actor, after all. The only thing he wanted was to be near Harry, he could never bear to lose his friendship now. That was why he would never tell Harry. He was pretty sure Harry wouldn't want to be near him if he knew. It would be very awkward. Anyway, it was just an infatuation, it would pass sooner or later.  
'Probably later,' he thought, and continued to replay their latest meeting in his head, over and over. He absently stroked the green velvet of his hangings, and wondered if Harry's skin was that soft.  
  
Harry couldn't sleep, his inner turmoil kept him awake.  
'What if he starts to hate me again?' he thought. He couldn't deny the fact that he was attracted to Draco anymore. He was practically all Harry was thinking of. What if Draco found out what Harry was feeling? Draco wasn't actually eager to be Harry's friend to begin with. Just imagine his reaction to this... Would he ridicule Harry, or just despise him? Draco was bound to found out, he noticed everything.  
'How can I do this to him? One is not supposed to be attracted to one's friends! This could ruin _everything_.'  
He willed the thoughts of Draco to go away, but they wouldn't. Still thinking of Draco's scent that night in Astronomy Tower, he fell asleep.  
  
That Saturday they were walking by the lake, enjoying the chilly November morning. The grass was covered with frost, but surprisingly there was no snow yet. The picture was beautiful. The iron-grey surface of the lake was still, and the branches of the trees were glistening with frost. Two young men, clad in black woollen cloaks, followed the narrow path, their breaths visible as white clouds in the cold air. They were discussing Quidditch animatedly, and Harry was just telling Draco how Hermione never understood why they were so impressed by that "Wonky Faint" thing. Draco laughed, and time seemed to slow down for Harry. He wished that he just could hold Draco and tell him how beautiful he was. Then it struck him, and he stopped dead in his tracks.  
'Oh gods!' he thought. 'Bloody hell, I'm in love with him!'  
"Harry? What's the matter?" Draco inquired.  
Harry did what every sensible person would do. He panicked.  
"Err... I got to go back to the castle. I... err... forgot to do something," he squeaked and darted off.  
"Harry! Wait!" Draco called after him, but Harry was already gone.  
"What the hell was that all about?" Draco wondered.  
  
Next chapter: A Soul Is Crying Out  
About Harry's reaction, and Draco's reaction to Harry's reaction. For the first time, Harry manages to make a true prediction in Divination.


	9. A Soul Is Crying Out

Title: Golden Thread Of Trust   
Author: Marian of the Faeries   
Rating: PG13   
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowlings created and owns all characters and their surroundings. Except for the one I invented myself. Lyrics from the song "Convince Me" by me.  
Warnings: Some cursing, slash, and depressing thoughts...   
Summary: The war is over. Harry is empty and Draco is lost in a whirlwind of emotions he can't handle. Can and will they help each other? Harry/Draco *slash*.  
  
Chapter 9: A Soul Is Crying Out  
  
'I wonder if Harry is avoiding me on purpose?' Draco thought when he sat in the library on Sunday evening. He and Harry usually spent the Sundays together, but he hadn't seen Harry, except in the Great Hall at meals, since that peculiar incident by the lake. He was rather hurt by Harry's strange behaviour; just running off like that and then avoiding him. Was it something he had said? Well, it was getting late, and he had lessons in the morning. Disappointed, he gathered his things and left.  
  
They didn't have any lessons together on Mondays, and Draco spent all day trying to ignore that sinking feeling in his stomach. He missed Harry. He missed Harry like hell, not that he would admit that, of course. He was beginning to worry now. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.  
When Draco left the Great Hall after dinner, he bumped into Harry, who was dressed in his scarlet Quidditch robes. Harry didn't look at him, and he acted as if he was going to pass Draco by without even acknowledging him.  
"Harry?" asked Draco incredulously.   
Harry turned around with a strange expression on his face.  
"Oh. Hi. Listen, I've got to go. I'm already late for Quidditch practice."  
And with that he was gone. Draco suppressed a sudden urge to swear. Harry clearly didn't want to spend time with him, Quidditch practice or not. Harry seemed almost... nervous. Draco felt a flash of panic. He couldn't have found out, could he? No, that was impossible. Draco was very good at hiding his true feelings. He started to walk back to his dormitory. True, he was good at hiding his feelings, but that didn't mean he didn't have any. On the contrary, his feelings were often very intense. When he was happy he was almost giddy. When he was sad he was miserable. Those he disliked he despised, and those he respected had his undying loyalty, until the truth was cruelly facing him, as in the case of his father. He was loyal until it was obvious that he'd rather die than do what his father expected of him. He had changed his loyalties then. But not until then. Contrary to popular belief, he was no turncoat, and had never been one. What can a child do but trust his own father? He had put his trust in the wrong person then. Did he just do the same mistake with Harry? He suddenly felt very cold.  
  
Next morning in Double Potions, Draco sat in the back of the classroom, waiting for Harry. He had a suspicion that Harry would choose another seat, but Draco still hoped that he was just imagining things. Watching the door anxiously, he saw that Harry was the last person to enter. He didn't look in Draco's direction, but chose a seat next to Longbottom in the front. Draco flinched. 'He's choosing Longbottom over me as a Potions partner?' That stung. He stared intently at Harry's back.  
'What the hell is going on in his head?'  
  
Harry was sweating, and his heart was beating faster in his chest. Just being in the same room as Draco did this to him. He really had to restrain himself from staring at the boy he was so attracted to. He really missed Draco, but being near him was unbearable. All the time he had to fight urges to jump the blond Slytherin and kiss him, and... He abruptly put an end to that train of thought. He simply had to stay away until this passed. There was no other option. Draco must never know.  
  
Draco thought he was going mad. He couldn't figure it out, it didn't matter how many times he tried. Why did Harry push him away? There was just one way to find out; he had to ask Harry. They were friends, and friends were supposed to be able to talk about anything, right? He started to gather courage.  
  
Harry sat in the back of the library with his back to the door, and didn't see when Draco entered. He jumped when the lithe blond slid into a chair opposite him, and cursed under his breath.  
'Why won't he just stay away from me? This will be so difficult...'  
He braced himself.  
"What do you want?" he asked acidly.  
"Harry, why are you avoiding me?"  
"None of your business, _Malfoy_. Just leave me alone, will you?"  
He saw the look of hurt and rejection on Draco's face before he concealed his emotions. His face was now an impenetrable mask, showing nothing but indifference. Harry stood up and left, fighting back tears, and feeling his heart breaking.  
'I'm so sorry, Draco,' he thought. 'I'm so sorry!'  
But Draco would never know. He would never know.  
  
The cold words echoed in Draco's mind, as he lay on his bed. _Just leave me alone, will you? Leave me alone... Leave me alone... _He still didn't understand.  
'What did I do, Harry? Why won't you be my friend anymore? After everything we've gone through, after everything we know about each other... Why?'  
They had been so _close_. Draco had been so happy, and now he was lonelier than he'd ever been in his entire life. He was miserable. Tears started to trickle down his pale cheeks. He rarely allowed himself to cry, but tonight his body couldn't contain all the sadness. They had shared so much. Draco had told him everything. _Everything_! Was Harry going to betray him now? He couldn't bear that.  
'Please, not Harry. Anyone, but not Harry!'  
  
Afterwards, Draco didn't remember much of the following week. He stumbled through it in a haze, concentrating on his studies and only that. He knew that he must have had Potions, Care of Magical Creatures and Advanced Charms together with Harry, but he didn't remember seeing him. He firmly shut out any thoughts of his former friend. Only in the night he would think of Harry, bitterly realising that his infatuation with him was only growing stronger when he'd wanted it to end. He looked up at the night sky outside his window. A single star was visible. Draco allowed himself to be a little pathetic.  
  
_Star light, star bright,  
First star I see tonight,  
I wish I may,  
I wish I might  
Have the wish I wish tonight._  
  
"Please give me Harry back," he whispered.  
He could almost hear a mocking reply, in Harry's voice.  
  
_The stars won't grant your wishes,  
Even though they shine so bright.  
A million souls are crying out tonight.  
But my heart is an ocean untouched by the wind,  
I don't feel what you feel when I touch your skin..._  
  
It was Tuesday morning, and Harry's steps were reluctant as he approached the dungeons. He'd forgotten what his life used to be like before he and Draco became friends. He'd been so empty. It was the same way now, except that the emptiness was filled up with thoughts of one special person, someone he wanted, but couldn't have. Life was meaningless, classes were a waste of time, and Potions was a real nightmare. Snape was more vicious than ever. The last Potions lesson, when Harry had sat down next to Neville for the second time, Snape had been forced to pair Draco and Blaise Zabini together, and he didn't look too happy about that. He blamed Harry, of course, and punished him by taking points for the most ridiculous things. Harry didn't enjoy sitting next to Neville either. Neville was nice enough, but Harry had twice as much work trying to stop Neville from making fatal mistakes. But the most important reason was that Draco was there. Draco never even noticed him anymore. This was getting more complicated than Harry had originally planned.  
He sat down next to Neville, trying to concentrate on the Potions Master, but his eyes were drawn to Draco. He watched the other boy for a while. Draco seemed to be completely absorbed by Snape's, in Harry's opinion boring lecture, but somehow he noticed that someone was watching him, and turned around. Their eyes met, and Harry's heart leaped. Suddenly he realised that he was staring and wrenched his gaze away. The exchange didn't go unnoticed. Hermione observed Harry's facial expression closely, his emotions clearly displayed for everyone to see. This confirmed that Harry actually was attracted to Malfoy, but it didn't explain why they'd stopped talking to each other, or why Harry was in such a bad mood. She frowned. If Malfoy was hurting Harry, she would...   
She wasn't the only one who could put two and two together, though. When Draco turned around Blaise followed his gaze and saw the looks they gave each other. Disgusted, he turned away, and no one knew that he had seen anything. He didn't forget it, though.  
  
Harry sat in Divination, coughing slightly from the heavy incense in the air, and feeling more and more desperate. Professor Trelawney had decided to surprise them with a small test on Astrology today, and Harry didn't feel very inspired. They were supposed to make a detailed horoscope for the following day, and then write a journal tomorrow evening to see if their predictions were correct. He had to try, guessing wouldn't do, not on a test. What was it that Draco had said? _Just use your intuition._ How does one do that, exactly? _Crap. Everyone's got intuition._ Well, it was worth a try. He finished the star chart and started the interpretations.  
'Hmm... Mercury... Could it be...? Yes, maybe, I'll write that down.'  
He was actually having quite fun when he finished and looked down on what he had written.  
'Seems like there will be loneliness — hah, that figures, I'm _always_ lonely — someone will prove to be loyal — hey, doesn't that contradict the loneliness thing? — I will have a realisation, something connected to a previous decision. And... someone dear to me will have a serious accident. I don't like the sound of that. Argh, what am I thinking? I don't actually _believe_ in this rubbish!'  
He handed in his test to Professor Trelawney.  
"Very good, Harry!" she said, quickly reading through his horoscope.  
'Well, I bet she liked that accident stuff,' Harry thought.  
"I expect a journal from you on Thursday, then," she said.  
"Do I have to write down _everything_?" Harry asked. He sure didn't want to tell a professor everything that happened in his life.  
"Try to write as much as you can, Harry. Sometimes you don't realise until afterwards what the stars tried to tell you."  
In spite of Harry's own reassurances that he didn't believe in his own prediction, he couldn't help but feel a little apprehensive, and he didn't look forward to tomorrow. He tried to shake off the feeling when Ron climbed down the ladder, complaining about the test.  
"I can't believe it! Giving us a test, just like that! Blimey, if any of my predictions come true it's a bloody miracle!"  
Harry smiled at the redhead.  
"What did you write?"  
Ron recounted a long list of completely ridiculous things that he clearly had made up. Harry tried to restrain himself from laughing out loud.  
"You know, Ron; you _could_ have written something easy, like 'My day will be very romantic, and I will be working very hard in classes' or something. It will be much harder for you to be the winner of Witch Weekly's Cutest Redhead Award, especially since you're not nominated."  
"Harry, don't be so reasonable!"  
  
That fateful day, Draco walked down a corridor on the second floor, trying hard to concentrate on his Transfigurations essay that was due next week. He was _not_ thinking of someone with untidy, jet-black hair, full lips, strong jaw and amazing green eyes. Not officially, anyway. He was quite absent-minded. If he had been in full possession of all his faculties, he would have turned around when he heard footsteps approaching quickly from behind. He wouldn't have walked so close to the staircase; he had learned that lesson years ago. But unfortunately he did. He barely had the time to register a hard shove in the back and feel a flash of panic as he fell, before he mercifully passed out, his body protecting him from the pain.  
  
At the same time Harry approached that very staircase from the other direction. He ran across Blaise Zabini who looked suspiciously smug. Harry ignored him, but when the Slytherin had walked past Harry he said something that gave Harry a sinking feeling in his stomach.  
"Hey, Potter! There's a lot of commotion in the hall downstairs. Maybe you should go and have a look?"  
Harry reached the staircase and looked down. A crowd had gathered at the foot of the stairs, and they mumbled excitedly among themselves.  
'Oh gods! I don't want to know. I really don't want to know,' Harry thought, trying to see what they were looking at. He reached the middle of the staircase and he thought he could see someone lying sprawled on the floor. Harry could hardly breathe by now. He could hear fragments of what people were saying.  
"Is he dead?"  
"No, look, he's breathing..."  
"...anyone see it happen?"  
"That looks pretty nasty, wonder how he..."  
"Oh my God!"  
And then Harry saw him, and it felt like he was struck by lightning.  
'Oh no, not him. Gods, not him!'  
He knew that thinking like that was useless, and he hurried forward, looking for a way to help. He knelt beside Draco and saw with his own eyes that he was indeed breathing, even though the rise and fall of his chest was barely visible. Draco looked even paler than usual, and his neck lay in an unnatural angle. It really pained Harry to see him hurt like that. Someone reached out for Draco.  
"No, don't touch him!" Harry interrupted. "I think his neck might be broken, don't move him. Has anyone summoned Madam Pomfrey?"  
The question answered itself as the medi-witch pushed through the crowd and proceeded to work. With a simple fixating charm on Draco's neck she solved that particular problem. She conjured a stretcher, put Draco on it and levitated him to Hospital Wing. Harry considered following her, but decided that he would only be in her way. Glancing up at the marble staircase he thought about that smug look on Zabini's face.  
'He's responsible for this!' Harry thought. 'He almost killed Draco! He's...' The world suddenly came to a halt as Harry realised the full implications of this.  
'It's my fault! Zabini did this to him because of his friendship with me, and I wasn't even there to protect him when he needed me! What have I done!'  
Suddenly he realised how stupid he had been.  
'Pushing him away, when all that meant something was his friendship! His friendship, and... Oh no, don't even think about it. How could I do that to him? I have to go and make up with him, but he will want to know why I did it, and what do I tell him? "I fell in love with you, but never mind; let's just be friends, all right?" '  
He frowned, and at the same time he felt like crying, because now he knew what a terrible mistake he had made.  
  
Next chapter: Hot Coal, Fire And Acid Jack  
Draco is making things difficult, and finally Hermione takes the matter into her own hands.


	10. Hot Coal, Fire And Acid Jack

Title: Golden Thread Of Trust   
Author: Marian of the Faeries   
Rating: PG13   
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowlings created and owns all characters and their surroundings. Except for the one I invented myself. Quoted lyrics by Darren Hayes.  
Warnings: Some cursing, slash, and depressing thoughts...   
Summary: The war is over. Harry is empty and Draco is lost in a whirlwind of emotions he can't handle. Can and will they help each other? Harry/Draco *slash*.  
  
A/N: For your information the soundtrack for Draco's awakening in this chapter is "Heart Attack" by Darren Hayes (on the album "Spin"). You can find it at http://www.darrenhayes.com/content11.html.  
  
Chapter 10: Hot Coal, Fire And Acid Jack  
  
_I've cracked  
My temper's spat  
Hot coal, fire and acid jack  
I've been used  
I feel abused  
Something you've done has lit my fuse  
And I take my theories back  
Maybe Karma ain't all that  
Coz you do whatever you please  
Everybody else is left to bleed  
  
You're a heart attack  
Your heart is black  
It's whack  
Your mind is jacked  
How did anybody ever get like that   
You're a heart attack  
You stabbed me in the back  
If you pull your punches jack  
I'm taking everything back  
You hit me harder than a heart attack  
  
Darren Hayes - "Heart Attack"_  
  
The Gryffindor common room was almost empty, except for a couple that sat huddled up on a sofa. On a closer look, one could see that they had a conversation clearly not meant for the ears of others.  
"Ron, did you notice that Harry and Malfoy aren't speaking anymore?"  
"Yeah, so what? I don't miss him."  
"I think Harry does. He's been really down lately."  
"You're right. We should try to cheer him up a bit."  
"Yes. There's nothing more we can do, right?  
Right then Harry burst into the common room with tears in his eyes.  
"Harry? What's wrong?" Ron asked, shocked.  
"It's Draco... Zabini pushed him down the stairs, and he almost died! And it's my fault."  
"How can it be _your_ fault, Harry?" Hermione asked sceptically.  
"Zabini did it because he's _my_ friend."  
"I thought you two weren't getting along anymore?" said Ron, puzzled.  
"I know. I wish it wasn't so," said Harry wistfully.  
"Why don't you make up with him then?" Hermione suggested.  
"It's not that easy," Harry sighed.  
Ron distracted Harry by suggesting a game of wizard chess, and Harry accepted gratefully.  
Hermione thought that this confirmed her theories of the nature of the split between Harry and Malfoy. It seemed quite clear. Harry is attracted to Malfoy, suddenly they aren't friends anymore and Harry's moping about it and looking perfectly miserable. Harry must have told him, or he found out anyway, and he pushed Harry away. Sodding bastard. He didn't deserve Harry.  
She watched Ron and Harry play. Ron was winning, of course. Harry seemed to have his thoughts elsewhere, and she could very well imagine where.  
"Checkmate," said Ron triumphantly.  
Harry smiled a little.  
"What time is it?" he asked.  
"Almost eleven," said Hermione.  
Harry stood up with a determined look on his face.  
"I'll go up to the Hospital Wing before Madam Pomfrey leaves," he said and ignored Ron and Hermione's disapproving looks. He fetched his Invisibility Cloak in case Filch was around.  
  
Harry realised that he envied Ron and Hermione, because of the love they shared, and the intimacy with which they interacted. They were so close that they were almost a part of each other. They had no need to hide anything from each other or disguise their feelings. Harry longed for that kind of honest relationship. He wanted it so much that it was almost painful to watch them together. It reminded him of Draco, and he simply had to visit him.  
  
When he entered the Hospital Wing he met Madam Pomfrey, who was preparing to leave for the night.  
"Hello Harry," she said. "You should be in bed right now, if I'm not mistaken?"  
Harry ignored her comment.  
"How is he?" he asked anxiously.  
Madam Pomfrey's expression changed from stern to concerned.  
"He is in a coma. I've healed the broken bones and head injuries, but he hasn't woke up yet."  
"Couldn't you just wake him up?"  
"I could, but there's no use. He'll wake up when he's ready."  
She saw Harry's puzzled look.  
"Sometimes a physical injury isn't the reason why a person doesn't wake up. It can also be for psychological reasons."  
She pursed her lips as if she'd said too much.  
"He's lucky. A broken neck can result in death or paralysis. He'll have to stay here for a while, but the accident won't leave any permanent marks. Now don't stay too long."  
With that she left and Harry was alone with Draco. He sat down on a chair beside the bed and watched the other boy for a while. He looked as if he simply was asleep. His eyes were closed, his lips were slightly parted, and he breathed very slowly. He was beautiful. Harry wondered how he ever considered being without Draco. He ached to touch him. On an impulse he leaned forward and put his cheek against Draco's. _So smooth, so soft..._ He breathed in Draco's familiar scent, feeling his warm breath tickle his ear. It felt so right. Harry felt his stomach contracting, and it pained him that Draco never would have allowed that small gesture of affection, even if they still were friends. He rose and looked at the unconscious boy.  
"I hope you can forgive me," he whispered and left, wondering what the hell he would write in his Divination journal.  
  
Draco woke up a couple of days later thinking: 'This is it.'  
He was seething with anger, and at first he was confused; he had no idea why. Then it all came back to him. Zabini. The staircase. Potter. He had to suppress a growl that threatened to escape from his throat. His thoughts were interrupted when Madam Pomfrey discovered that he'd waken up. She promptly started to monitor him and informed him of his injuries and that he had had an accident.  
"Accident my arse," he growled, and the old witch looked shocked. Whether it was because of what he had said or his rude choice of words, Draco didn't know, and he didn't care.  
"I was pushed."  
Madam Pomfrey gasped.  
"_Who_ did that?"  
"I don't know," Draco confessed, "they came from behind."  
He thought to himself that he had a pretty good idea, but there was no way to prove it, of course.  
Madam Pomfrey told him that he had to stay for the rest of the day for observation, but that he could leave in the evening. He spent the time trying to gain control over his temper, this aggression wouldn't do. He had partly succeeded when he left, at least he didn't scowl anymore. He strode quickly through the corridors, not feeling any weaker than usual, despite the fact that he'd just awoken from a coma. He'd decided now. He wouldn't play any more games with Potter. This was the second time the Gryffindor had rejected and humiliated him, and he wouldn't be stupid enough to give him another chance. If enmity was what he wanted from Draco, that was what he was going to get. He could admit to himself that he was hurt. It hurt to pour one's soul out to someone you thought you could trust and be so brutally rejected. It was ironic, he thought, that he'd had to risk his life for someone who didn't even want him as a friend. Well, he wouldn't waste his time and energy pining for that bastard. He had more important things on his mind. He swept though the Slytherin common room without even throwing a glance at the people sitting there, and got his homework for the lessons he'd missed.  
  
The next morning at breakfast, Harry's heart skipped a beat as he saw Draco enter. He stood out from the rest, moving with natural grace, aiming for the Slytherin table. Suddenly he looked straight at Harry, and Harry flinched at what his eyes communicated. So cold... Harry had seen those pale eyes narrowing with laughter, wide with fear and filled with tears... But now they were cold; just like when they were younger and still enemies, except that they were filled with a cold rage.  
'Oh, you have every right to be angry with me,' Harry thought. Draco hadn't seemed to care that they weren't friends anymore, he had only looked at Harry twice in the two weeks that had passed. But of course he was angry with Harry, he had put him in mortal danger, after all. That glare was justified, but Harry wished that he would stop; it broke his heart.  
'Please, I just want to be your friend again! I just want to turn back time, to make it all undone...'  
Draco turned away and didn't look at him again. Not at breakfast, not that entire day, or the following week.  
  
This made it very difficult for Harry, he never quite found the nerve to walk up to Draco and apologise to him. The longer he waited, the more difficult it became, and at the end of the week, Harry had practically given up. Watching Draco from a distance, and seeing that he was just as lonely as Harry, wasn't making it any easier. Harry's friends tried to cheer him up, but eventually it became apparent that his unhappiness wouldn't go away. Hermione watched one of her oldest friends retreat deeper and deeper into himself, and decided that it was time for some action. She knew the source of the problem could be found in the library most of the time, so she went there and saw him sitting at his usual table, in a quiet end of the library. She sat down opposite him.  
"Hi," she said.  
"What do you want?" he asked coldly.  
'All right,' she thought, 'so this is where we stand.'  
"I want to talk to you," she said aloud. "What did you do to Harry?"  
Draco was speechless for a while.  
"What _I_ did to _Harry_? What the hell do you mean?"  
"You know exactly what I'm talking about! "  
"All I know is that Harry told me to leave him alone, and I did, didn't I?"  
"Oh," was all Hermione said, as the pieces of the puzzle realigned themselves before her eyes. "I see, I think. It makes sense."  
Malfoy didn't push Harry away at all; it was the other way around, and now Harry was regretting it. She realised that that might be the worst thing Harry could've done, betraying the trust of someone who seldom trusted anyone.  
"What are you talking about, Granger?" said Draco irritably, but his voice betrayed the slightest note of curiosity.  
"Listen, this might not be as bad as it seems."  
Draco just rolled his eyes.  
Hermione tried a different approach.  
"Harry is very unhappy, you know."  
Draco snorted.  
"Serves him right."  
"Do you really mean that?" Hermione asked quietly.  
"Yes. No. Maybe a little," said Draco, embarrassed. Then he burst out:  
"But why is he _doing_ this to me?"  
"Harry acts before he thinks. It's quite possible that he got some idea into his head, and acted before he realised the consequences. I can almost imagine his stupid reasoning... You really should talk to him."  
"No way. He told me to stay away. We're not on speaking terms anymore."  
"Harry said he wished it wasn't so."  
"He did?"  
Draco could hardly believe it. He felt as if someone had just emptied a bucket of cold water over his head.  
"Yes, he did. You really ought to talk to him."  
"You don't expect me to fall on my knees and beg him to be my friend, do you?" Draco asked, unbelieving.  
"Ask him, Malfoy. Just ask him. Don't let your pride stand between you and Harry, you're smarter than that."  
And with that she went, leaving Draco staring at her back. What if she was right? What if it wasn't as bad as it seemed; what if Harry really did regret it all? Or what if her words were just another cruel joke? There was only one way to find out, and this time Draco would make sure to be in control of the situation.  
  
Next chapter: Clearly Visible  
The situation between Harry and Draco is finally resolved. We will also find out why Draco was so reluctant to use spirit magic.


	11. Clearly Visible

Title: Golden Thread Of Trust   
Author: Marian of the Faeries   
Rating: PG13   
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowlings created and owns all characters and their surroundings. Except for the one I invented myself. Quoted lyrics by Darren Hayes.  
Warnings: Some cursing, slash, and depressing thoughts...   
Summary: The war is over. Harry is empty and Draco is lost in a whirlwind of emotions he can't handle. Can and will they help each other? Harry/Draco *slash*.  
  
Chapter 11: Clearly Visible  
  
_More than angry words I hate this silence  
It's getting so loud  
Well I want to scream  
But bitterness has silenced these emotions  
It's getting hard to breathe  
  
Savage Garden - "Hold Me"_  
  
Harry pushed his breakfast around the plate, not having any appetite. December second, that meant three weeks and six days without Draco. Tomorrow they were allowed to visit Hogsmeade, but for the first time in his life, Harry didn't feel like going. Nothing could really excite him anymore. He didn't live, he existed. Maybe Christmas could liven him up a bit. Usually it did, but right now not even the thought of the upcoming holiday could make him feel anything. Heads were turned upwards as the owl post arrived, delivering newspapers, letters and packages to the students gathered in the Great Hall.  
"Look Harry, it's for you," said Ron as an unfamiliar dark brown owl swooped down and dropped an envelope in front of Harry. Surprised, Harry opened it, and found a short note in a familiar handwriting.  
  
_Harry,  
  
Meet me in our room tonight at 11. I need to talk to you.  
  
D._  
  
Harry was shocked. He looked over at the Slytherin table and found that Draco was regarding him with a calm, steady gaze. He swallowed. Had the moment of truth finally arrived? He considered not going for a moment, but he knew he had to take the chance, now that Draco was offering it. Could he get away without telling Draco his secret? Not likely. He wondered if he would still be alive at this time tomorrow, and in case he hadn't died from embarrassment, what his life would look like.  
  
At half past ten that evening, Harry grew tired of staring into the fire, and started to feel restless. Ron and Hermione hadn't gone to bed yet; Harry had the suspicion that they were staying up just to see why he was staying up. He'd already brought his invisibility cloak, so he was ready to go.  
"I'll just go out for a walk," he told his friends.  
"Sure, Harry," said Hermione innocently. "Have a good time."  
Harry shuddered and left.  
"You don't think this has anything to do with that mysterious note he got at breakfast?" Ron asked Hermione.  
"Probably," she said, smiling. "He'll be gone for a while now, so we'll have your room to ourselves. I thought that maybe..."  
She never had the time to finish before Ron eagerly pulled her in the direction of the boy's dormitories.  
  
When Harry entered the room it was almost too dark to see; the only source of light was the faint light from the waning moon spilling through the large window. Even in almost complete darkness, Harry sensed Draco's presence. The Slytherin stood leaned against the wall by the window, with an unreadable expression on his face.  
"Hi," said Harry uncertainly.  
"You came."  
"Of course I did."  
"Well, I didn't take it for granted. Judging by your behaviour lately, one could almost get the impression that you don't appreciate my company," said Draco ironically.  
Harry winced.  
"I'm really sorry. I've been so stupid..."  
Draco looked at him and smiled a little. So it was true. Maybe it wasn't too late, maybe this could be mended.  
"I might accept an apology, if you give me a really good explanation."  
He realised that this could take some time, so he tried to make the room more habitable.  
"_Incendio,_" he said, pointing his wand at the fireplace. A fire was lit immediately, illuminating the small room and the two armchairs in front of the fireplace, the only furniture in the room. They sat down in the chairs and looked at each other. The tension between them was almost tangible, and so intense that Harry soon began to squirm. It was so hard to look Draco in the eyes while hiding something so important from him.  
"I'd rather not say," Harry confessed. "It's got nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me."  
"I _really_ want to know, Harry."  
Harry gave him a pained look.  
"No you don't. That's why I never told you in the first place."  
Draco was extremely curious by now.  
"You owe me an explanation, Harry."  
Harry stood up and started pacing.  
"I _am_ sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I just couldn't stand being around you. I thought it would pass"  
"What?" Draco exclaimed and stood up. "Harry, you're just beating about the bush! You're not making sense!"  
He stood in front of Harry and looked him in the eyes.  
"Harry," he said softly. "Do you know how much your friendship meant to me? It meant _everything_! It was the only thing that kept me alive. Now _please_ tell me why?"  
Harry was trapped. He figured that things hardly could get worse, so he could as well tell him.  
"Because" he began, then interrupted himself.  
Draco suddenly wondered if he really _wanted_ to know, it seemed like something terrible, judging by the trouble Harry had saying it. Harry looked away.  
"I fell in love with you."  
No sound came from Draco, and Harry couldn't contain his curiosity any longer, he had to see his reaction. Draco had a look of utter surprise on his face, and his grey eyes were wide with shock.  
'Beautiful eyes,' Harry thought.  
Draco was still for several seconds, then his expression changed into one of confusion, then sadness.  
"but you didn't want to be with me?" he asked in a small voice.  
Harry was confused. That wasn't the answer he had expected. Did it mean?  
"Yes, I did! But I thought you'd hate me"  
Draco thought that Harry looked so adorable when he was confused and when he didn't know what to think.  
"Stupid git," he said warmly. "You should've told me long ago!"  
And with that he pulled Harry into a kiss, and both were lost in the sensations. Harry's lips were so warm and soft as silk, softer than he'd ever imagined. He could feel Harry's arms encircle his waist, drawing him even closer, and he let his hands slide up Harry's back to rest them on his shoulders. Their tongues met, sending jolts of electricity down Draco's spine, making him shiver with delight. The kiss lasted for an eternity, or so it felt. Neither of them wanted to let go, ever, but finally Harry had to pull away to catch his breath. He looked up at Draco, his bright green eyes full of emotion. Draco just smiled, words would ruin the moment. He carefully removed Harry's glasses, and they began kissing for real.  
Several minutes later they broke off again, flushing and breathing heavily. The silence needed to be broken.  
"Harry," Draco whispered in wonder.  
Harry didn't answer, he just buried his face in Draco's neck, waiting for his heartbeat to calm down. He looked discontentedly at the two chairs in the room, he wasn't very eager to break off their physical contact. He let go of Draco and walked up to the chairs, and arranged them so that they stood side by side. Draco looked at him questioningly. Harry pulled out his wand and frowned in concentration. Soon the chairs had been transfigured into a sofa. He smiled, satisfied. They nestled really close together on the sofa, trying to find a comfortable position.  
"So, do you think you can forgive me?" Harry asked softly, his face merely centimetres from Draco's.  
Draco regarded him with dreamy eyes.  
"Mmm, if you kiss me again."  
Harry complied enthusiastically, the feel and taste of Draco flooding his senses. He would _never_ get enough of this.  
"I never knew you felt the same way," Harry mumbled when they had stopped kissing.  
"I didn't want you to know."  
"Why?"  
"I never knew that you felt the same, either," Draco explained. "Besides, I was quite convinced that you were straight."  
"Well, I'm not," said Harry and smiled.  
"I guessed as much," Draco grinned.  
They held each other in silence for a while.  
"Draco?" said Harry.  
"Hmm?"  
"Please tell me that I'm not dreaming."  
"You're not dreaming."  
"I'm still not sure that I believe you," said Harry and sighed.  
Draco glanced at him, then he reached out and pinched the back of Harry's hand, hard,  
"Ouch!" Harry exclaimed and glared at him. "What was that for?"  
"Just showing you that you're not dreaming," Draco said mischievously.  
He picked up Harry's hand and placed a soft kiss on the hurting spot. Then he turned it and kissed the palm of his hand, never breaking their eye contact. Harry's breath caught at the affection that was so clearly visible in Draco's silver eyes. Never in his entire life had anyone looked at him like that. He tried to make his own eyes communicate the same message, and apparently it worked, because Draco's gaze softened even more, and he leaned in for another kiss.  
"Harry?" said Draco softly.  
"Yeah?"  
"Don't leave me again."  
Harry held him even tighter.  
"I won't, I promise."  
Suddenly he got an idea.  
"Would you like to come with me to Hogsmeade tomorrow?"  
Draco's smile was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud.  
"Yes, of course."  
  
The Ancient One gazed down into the pool of swirling clouds. Another task was accomplished, and she could finally return to her rest. Tonight, she could almost feel her millennia like heavy weights, making her movements slow and her mind less sharp. She was so tired, and she knew instinctively that this was her last task. She could finally go to sleep, forever, and one of the younger would take over. She gazed tenderly down at the two boys again, watching her last commitment. She never thought they would go so far, to actually become lovers, but if that was what it took to save their friendship, it was for the best. Another rift was mended. These two boys would heal an old wound that had become too infected to be allowed to exist. She knew there was no such thing as fate, but she was as close to it as it gets. Tiredly, she drifted over to the stone where Harry once found the sleeping form of Draco, settled down, and the eyes that had seen the beginning of civilisation and the bottom of the human heart were finally closed, forever.  
  
Reluctantly, Harry and Draco realised that they had to get at least some sleep that night and they separated and headed for their respective dormitories. Draco went unseen back to his own room, practising his excellent sneaking skills. He'd been sneaking around the castle after hours since his first year, after all, and he had learned a few tricks.  
  
Harry Wow, that had been one of the biggest surprises of his life. He laughed and hugged himself. And tomorrow he could spend the day with Harry again, just the two of them. He supposed that they did have some kind of date. He didn't know if Harry wanted to keep their relationship a secret, but it didn't matter to him.  
Suddenly he realised that the room was considerably lighter than it should be in the middle of the night. None of the lamps were lit, and no light came from the large window. He held up his hand in front of him and saw that it glowed with a bright, golden light.  
"Shit."  
He had hoped that maybe they would leave him alone, but obviously he had been wrong.  
"Go away," he ordered, but nothing happened.  
He could almost hear a ringing laughter in the air. Apparently the spirits thought that since he didn't order them to come, he couldn't order them away. He sighed, defeated. The spirits were drawn to strong emotions; he supposed that the strength of his emotions was the reason they liked him. Once you called them they could find you whenever they wanted, if they cared enough to bother about it. And now they mirrored his happiness about Harry. The actual spirits weren't visible to the eye, only the illusions they created, but Draco had seen them once in a trance, as a part of his training. They were small, and strangely inhuman, floating in the air as if they weighed nothing. Which they probably didn't, Draco concluded. They had different appearances depending on which kind of spirit they were. Elemental spirits were small and whimsical, and they had different colours depending on which element they controlled. There were also bigger spirits who could cause actual changes in the material world, and those were more difficult to control, aggressive and potentially dangerous. Well, all he could do was to wait and see if it went away. It would look _slightly_ suspicious if he was glowing tomorrow at breakfast.  
  
Next chapter: Confirming And Conspiring  
The date in Hogsmeade, snogging and more about Blaise's motives.


	12. Confirming And Conspiring

Title: Golden Thread Of Trust   
Author: Marian of the Faeries   
Rating: R   
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowlings created and owns all characters and their surroundings. Except for the one I invented myself.   
Warnings: Some cursing, slash, and depressing thoughts... In later chapters, snogging.  
Summary: The war is over. Harry is empty and Draco is lost in a whirlwind of emotions he can't handle. Can and will they help each other? Harry/Draco *slash*.  
  
Chapter 12: Confirming And Conspiring  
  
Harry made his way from breakfast with a huge smile on his face. Ron and Hermione had pestered him with questions about what happened last night, but he had only told them that he and Draco were friends again. Draco had given him a smile from his place at the Slytherin table, and Harry had felt relieved; he had secretly feared that Draco had changed his mind His thoughts were interrupted when strong hands pulled him into a side-corridor. He felt arms encircling his waist, and a voice purred "Hello, Harry," very close to his ear  
"Draco"  
Their lips met in a passionate kiss, and Harry had become oblivious to his surroundings before they broke off. Draco looked at Harry.  
"How am I supposed to act?"  
"Act?"  
Harry _was_ still kind of dizzy, but Draco was prepared to forgive him.  
"Have you told your friends about us?"  
"No" said Harry uncomfortably. "I haven't exactly come out to them yet."  
"So you want to keep it a secret?" Draco asked.  
"If you don't mind very much?"  
"No, it's all right. I understand."  
"I'll tell them as soon as the opportunity presents itself, I promise," said Harry and kissed Draco on the cheek. Promising to meet each other later in the Entrance Hall, they hurried to fetch their cloaks. In the Gryffindor common room, Harry met Ron and Hermione.  
"Hey, Harry! Are you coming with us to Hogsmeade?" Ron asked.  
"Sorry, but I promised Draco I would go with him," said Harry apologetically.  
"Of course," said Hermione and smiled. "You will have a lot to catch up on."  
Harry quietly agreed.  
  
It was snowing when they got outside. It was the soft kind of snow that muffled all sound, and landed like big, fluffy flakes on the hoods of their cloaks.  
"Do you know how much I like this kind of snow?" said Draco happily and turned his face upwards.  
"Do you know how much I want to kiss you when you do that?" Harry asked longingly.  
"No you don't. My nose is cold."  
"I think I could bear that," said Harry bravely.  
They laughed and continued to walk along the path leading to Hogsmeade.  
  
When they arrived their cheeks were stinging from the cold, and they decided to have a butterbeer at Three Broomsticks to warm themselves.  
The small inn was crowded, but they managed to find an unoccupied table by a window. The other tables were full of students and teachers who also were escaping the cold outside and talking merrily among themselves, already feeling the atmosphere of Christmas. Harry and Draco were no exception. Since they had decided to keep their relationship secret for the moment, they had to act like they were only friends, but when their hands brushed under the table, out of sight, Draco almost shyly seized Harry's hand and entwined his fingers with Harry's. They talked about the things that happened in the weeks they were apart, and soon they started to discuss more serious things. Harry told Draco of his only prediction in Divination that came true, ever. That brought them to talk about the accident, and Harry told Draco that he'd met Blaise Zabini in the corridor right after it happened.  
"I suspected him, too," said Draco grimly.  
"Have you thought about why he would do that?" asked Harry.  
"Well, he tried to injure me, of course!"  
"It's not that simple. First, he almost lands you with a life sentence in Azkaban, and then he tries to kill you. Why would anyone do that? It's not just out of cruelty, I am quite sure of that. He must have some kind of reason! Some kind of motive."  
"Yes," said Draco thoughtfully. "I always assumed that the first attack was aimed for you, but when you put it that way"  
"Why would he hate you so much?" asked Harry.  
"I don't know, Harry. I really don't know," said Draco and sighed.  
"You have me now," said Harry reassuringly. "I won't let him harm you."  
Draco smiled warmly at him.  
  
Hermione stopped in the doorway, watching the two boys from a distance. She saw their serious air dissipate, and caught the look of complete adoration on Draco's face. She also noticed that Harry used his left hand to drink from his mug of butterbeer, and she wondered why, since he was right-handed. Then she noticed how close to each other they sat, and that Draco's hand had disappeared mysteriously under the table as well, and she smiled. How sweet. Anyway, honeymoon was over, because she needed company.  
"Hi guys," she said as she sat down at their table.  
"Hi Hermione! Where's Ron gone off to?"  
"He's buying a Christmas present for me," she said smugly. "So, what are your plans for today?"  
Harry blushed a little, because Draco was doing some _very _suggestive things to the fingers of his right hand.  
"Don't know yet. Do you want to go back to the school, Draco?"  
"Unless you want to buy gifts?"  
"No," said Harry breathlessly, "it can wait. I mean, there's three weeks left, right?"  
"Right," said Hermione and rolled her eyes. Harry would always be Harry. Always doing things at the last minute.  
Draco and Harry waited patiently until Ron appeared, and when he finally did they shot up from their seats and said goodbye to Hermione and the startled Ron. He stared at them as they practically ran off.  
"They seemed to be in a hurry," he commented.  
Hermione giggled.  
"Aren't they cute?"  
"Cute?" asked Ron and raised his eyebrows.  
"They were holding hands under the table!"  
Ron snorted.  
"And now they're probably off snogging somewhere," he added. "When do you think he's planning on telling us."  
"Oh knowing Harry, he'll probably fret over this a couple of weeks before he comes round."  
  
Meanwhile, Draco and Harry had returned to the school, namely Harry's dormitory, and were engaged in a heated kiss. Tongues were battling fiercely for power, hands exploring bodies, entangled in darkest black and silver-blond hair, limbs entwining. They reached Harry's bed, and Harry pushed Draco down onto it and landed on top of his boyfriend. He stayed there, just watching Draco's amazing eyes gazing back at him, his fine hair spilling out over the pillow. Harry felt a pang of love towards the gorgeous Slytherin.  
"You're so beautiful," he whispered.  
"So are you," answered Draco, and kissed him tenderly. He removed Harry's glasses and put them on the bedside table. He proceeded to place small kisses all over Harry's face, the brow, the eyelids, the cheeks, the jawbone, and when he finally reached the mouth Harry attacked his lips with a fierceness that surprised them both. Harry could feel Draco's lithe body under his, and what he could feel only made him want to rip off Draco's robes so he could feel more. He found himself very aroused by this, and he could clearly feel that Draco was, too. Draco's hands were travelling across Harry's back, pulling him closer, making Harry's skin tingle and his body ache for more. Draco's hands were now resting on Harry's hips, and Harry bucked his hips experimentally, grinding his hard-on into Draco's. He gasped at the sensation, and was thrilled by the soft moan that escaped Draco's lips. He felt how Draco tensed, and suddenly, Harry had no idea how it happened, he was on top of Harry, and it was Harry's turn to moan as his senses were overwhelmed by Draco's ministrations. Draco was licking and sucking on Harry's neck, pinning his thrashing body down with his own. Harry's hands were exploring Draco's shoulders, his back, his slender waist and hips, _very_ fine arse and muscular thighs, and were wandering up to the buttons of Draco's robe, when Draco suddenly tensed.  
"Someone's coming," he whispered against Harry's lips, and backed away to a sitting position. Indeed, Harry could hear someone ascending the stars, and he recognised a voice as Ron's. He sat up, put on his glasses and tried to slow his breathing down. Ron and Hermione entered, looking curious.  
"What are you doing?" asked Hermione.  
"Nothing," Harry replied, thankful for the loose-fitting school robes that hid the evidence of the contrary.  
"We were just talking," explained Draco.  
Harry marvelled at his calm composure, nothing seemed to set him off-balance. Hermione nodded, and waited while Ron put his purchases in his trunk.  
"Are you two coming down to lunch?" asked Ron.  
"Yeah," said Harry. "In a minute."  
"Okay," said Ron, and he and Hermione left.  
Harry looked at Draco.  
"Shall we go down?"  
"You do so. I have to go back to my dorm, I've got a problem that I need to attend to," Draco growled.  
Harry snickered.  
  
Blaise was triumphant. He was careful not to let it show, though. He had finally conceived a plan that would get rid of Draco Malfoy, where the other plans had failed. He hadn't counted on Harry Potter and his saviour complex the other times, but this time both of them would go down. This time, nothing could go wrong. He had until Christmas holidays to work on the details. Two weeks were enough to brew the potion and find a way to make sure Malfoy and Potter ingested it. It was a very complex potion that really tried his potion-making skills, and sometimes Blaise wondered why he bothered about it all. Then he remembered, and the hatred came back with a vengeance. Blaise was a true Slytherin; to call him ambitious would be an understatement. He craved power more than anything in life, but unfortunately his status among the Slytherins was low because of his tainted blood. His grandmother had been a muggle, and that was enough for the other Slytherins to look down on him, and the Death Eaters to deny him access to any Dark Arts training. Blaise couldn't see the logic of it. The Dark Arts were only means to achieve power, why did Dark Wizards necessarily have to walk around slaughtering Mudbloods? It was terribly frustrating, and Draco Malfoy embodied everything Blaise detested. He was the rich, spoilt son of a prominent Death Eater and was born with access to all that Blaise desired; power, status, and a good Dark Arts education. And what did he do with it? He threw it all away and joined the other side! His treachery and the deaths of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy was a stab in the back of the Death Eater movement, and perhaps Dumbledore's side wouldn't have won the war if Voldemort's ranks hadn't been so weakened at the time. Blaise was seething with anger. Every time he saw Malfoy, he had an urge to strangle him with his bare hands, but that wouldn't do. No, this way was sufficient, the traitor would have no chance to escape, and no one could trace the potion to Blaise. Finally, he wouldn't have to stand in the shadows.  
  
Next chapter: Only You And Me  
Harry comes out of the closet, the boys finally get some time to themselves, and Zabini is taking out his revenge.


	13. Only You And Me

Title: Golden Thread Of Trust   
Author: Marian of the Faeries   
Rating: R   
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowlings created and owns all characters and their surroundings. Except for the one I invented myself.   
Warnings: Some cursing, slash, and depressing thoughts... In later chapters, snogging.  
Summary: The war is over. Harry is empty and Draco is lost in a whirlwind of emotions he can't handle. Can and will they help each other? Harry/Draco *slash*.  
  
Chapter 13: Only You And Me  
  
Christmas holidays were approaching fast. When Professor McGonagall passed round the list of who would spend the holidays at Hogwarts both Harry and Draco signed, since they had nowhere else to go. Ron and Hermione, on the other hand, were going to the Burrow to celebrate Christmas with Ron's family. Nearly no one was going to stay, since this was the first Christmas after the war ended, and everyone wanted to spend as much time with their families as possible. The only other Gryffindors staying were two second-year girls. Harry was secretly thrilled about the prospect of spending Christmas alone with Draco. Thoughts of what they could get up to kept popping up in his head, but he tried to restrain his excitement, it wouldn't do to jump Draco right there in front of the entire common room. He glanced at the gorgeous Slytherin beside him. He was talking to Hermione and didn't notice Harry's thoughtful gaze. Since they became a couple Draco had opened up; he seemed happier, more playful. Harry hadn't listened to their conversation, and he jumped when Hermione addressed him.  
"So, Harry. When were you going to tell us?"  
"About what?" he wondered tentatively.  
"About you and Draco, of course."  
"You know?" he wondered, startled.  
"Why don't you tell us?" she said, and indicated Ron, who wore an interested expression on his face.  
Harry squirmed, but since he had promised Draco to tell them he had to speak the truth. He looked at Draco, who gave him a small, encouraging nod.  
"Well I'm gay, and Draco and I are going out."  
Short but informative. Harry waited anxiously for a reaction, but none came.  
"Well?" said Hermione after a while.  
"Well what?" asked a confused Harry.  
"Let's see then," she said with a grin.  
"_What?_" Harry asked, even more confused.  
"Just bloody kiss him, of course!" Hermione exclaimed.  
Harry just stared at her, speechless and unable to comprehend what he just heard her say. Draco, however, wasn't as dumbfounded, so he smiled, turned Harry's face by his chin and captured his lips in a tender kiss.  
  
"Click."  
  
Draco turned around swiftly with a growl. Somewhere among the goggling Gryffindors a startled squeak was heard, and a small figure darted towards the stairs. Draco glared at the spot where the boy had disappeared.  
'If looks could kill' thought Harry.  
"If I ever get the one who did that" said Draco menacingly.  
"Leave it, Draco. We don't even know who it was," said Harry soothingly.  
He had his suspicions, though. The youngest of the Creevey brothers, Simon, had taken over Colin's old camera, and he was taking pictures of people in all kinds of embarrassing situations. For example when Neville tried to sneak unnoticed through the common room after one of his Potions accidents, covered in yellow slime. Or when some poor fourth-year had been hit by the Furnunculus curse. Or whenever anyone was found in less than appropriate clothing. Harry thought that he'd better confiscate that photo, he didn't want it to circulate around the school.  
  
The following week was frustrating for both Harry and Draco. The entire school was gossiping about them, since no one was quite sure of the nature of their relationship. Everyone was extremely curious, and wherever they went people kept staring at them. Neither of them was comfortable with a public display of affection just yet, and they had a distinct feeling that the teachers didn't approve of snogging in the halls, so they had to keep away from each other. At the same time the sexual tension between them grew to the point when a brief touch sent sparks of desire through both of them, making them even more frustrated. Harry woke up several times after wet dreams starring a certain Draco Malfoy, his body screaming for release. The dreams left him slightly shocked by the fantasies of his own subconscious. Now that he thought about it, he never actually considered the actualities of making love to a boy. He had no idea how to go about it. He did have some enticing ideas, though  
Draco found their situation extremely funny, and took great delight in teasing Harry both verbally and physically. He seemed to have some great suggestions too, Harry mused. He shivered at the memories and turned his attention towards his aching erection. He could barely wait for the holidays to begin.  
  
Finally, a week later, Harry and Draco stood by a window, watching their friends leave together with the entire school. As the chain of carriages disappeared towards Hogsmeade station, Draco turned to Harry.  
"So," he said softly, "it's only you and me now."  
"Yeah," Harry replied and rested his head on Draco's shoulder. He felt incredibly happy, and it filled him with a familiar longing.  
"Want to go flying?" he asked.  
Draco's eyes brightened.  
"Yes! Excellent idea!"  
They hurried to get their brooms, and within minutes they were kicking off from the snow-covered ground. Harry felt the air whoosh past him when his broomstick rose towards the skies. Chilly winds were playing with his hair, tousling it even more, and Harry thought that this must be ultimate happiness; being able to fly like this, and having Draco by his side. They flew for a couple of hours until they were too tired to go on, touched back down on the ground and started to walk towards the castle.  
  
Harry eyed Draco, thinking that he was very attractive when he was all sweaty and dishevelled. Suddenly an idea struck him.  
"Draco," he said, "are you going to take a shower?"  
Draco looked at him absently.  
"Well yes."  
"Would you like to shower with me?"  
Draco's eyes widened.  
"Oh yes," he said, so softly that it was almost a whisper.  
Harry bit his lip, trying to stop himself from trembling in anticipation.  


* * *

  
***   
I've written a lemon, but since I can't post it here I will give you a link to it instead (it's not important for the plot, so it's not necessary to read it). So if you wish to read the adult scene following here, involving sweat, showers, soap, love and a lot of male anatomy, paste this link into your Address Bar:  
  
http://home7.swipnet.se/~w-73978/lemon.html  
  
Please note that it's NC-17 and you're not supposed to read it if you're younger than 17. ***

* * *

  
  
A/N: Harry and Draco have now ended up in Harry's bed, in case you skipped the adult scene  
  
Afterwards they lay sated in each other's arms, Harry with his head on Draco's chest, listening to his heartbeat slowing down, Draco staring up at the canopy of Harry's bed.  
"Draco"  
"Hmm?"  
"You know I love you."  
Draco's felt his heart leap. He hugged his lover tightly, and his eyes were stinging with unshed tears.  
"I love you too," he said, and kissed Harry on top of his head.  
Harry smiled and raised his head so he could see Draco's face.  
"Draco, why are you crying?"  
"It's just no one has ever said that to me before."  
"No one's ever said that to me either."  
He kissed Draco on the lips.  
"I love you."  
  
Harry and Draco spent the next few days enjoying each other's company by day, and taking turns in sleeping in each other's bed at night. They discovered the joy of being held when you go to sleep, and the joy of being woken up by a kiss from the one you love. They found that they hardly could bear to be separated after being apart for so long.  
  
One morning after breakfast they lay on Draco's bed, feeling a bit lazy now that they didn't have any classes. On the bedside table was a box of Christmas sweets brought up by the house elves. At least that was what the boys assumed, otherwise they would surely not have eaten it so unconcernedly. Neither of them thought of Blaise Zabini, or suspected that they were vulnerable to his plots even though he had gone home for the holidays.  
"Draco, are you feeling a bit strange?"  
Draco yawned.  
"I feel strangely tired I wasn't tired at breakfast"  
Harry tried to get his eyes to focus, but it was impossible.  
"Do you think"  
He never got any further, though, before the drowsiness took over. They fell asleep right where they were, Harry slumped against the backboard of Draco's bed, and Draco across his lap.  
  
When Harry woke up, he was confused for a moment, then he tried to get up. He expected the weight of Draco's body to be a hindrance, but somehow he passed right through him, and stood up beside the bed. Bewildered, he looked back at the bed, and gasped when he saw both his own and Draco's bodies still lying there, asleep. He reached forward and tried to touch them, but his hand went right though them as if they were ghosts. Harry himself felt very substantial.  
"Harry," a voice said, and Harry looked up and saw Draco standing on the other side of the bed. Harry reached out to touch him, and discovered that he was just as solid as Harry was. He breathed out in relief.  
"Draco! What happened?"  
Draco's brow was furrowed in thought.  
"I think that we somehow have been transported to the spirit world."  
"What?" said Harry, inspecting the room, which in his opinion looked exactly like it used to. "What's the spirit world, and how did we get here?"  
"The spirit world is just another plane of reality, invisible to us most of the time. This is where the spirits that I use when I perform spirit magic come from. And I have no idea how we got here!"  
"Oh," said Harry, confused. "How do we get out of here, then?"  
"I don't know," said Draco, sounding a little afraid. "I've only been here once, and that time I brought a key."  
"Brought? How do you bring something to this place?" asked Harry curiously, and waved his hand through Draco's bedside table.  
"You just use your imagination. We control reality here."

"If you say so," said Harry and shrugged.  
Draco sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands. Harry tried to sit down next to him, but fell right through it and landed with a 'thump' on the floor.  
"Ow!" he exclaimed and rubbed his sore behind. "Wait a minute! I fell right through the bed, how come I don't fall right through the floor?"  
"The floor is solid," said Draco hurriedly, before Harry _did_ fall right through the floor, or something worse. It would take some time to teach Harry to control his imagination "Now, please don't _think_ so much, and let _me_ think about how to get out of here!"  
He put his head in his hands again, and shut Harry and the rest of the world out completely.   
Harry watched him for a while, and was startled when a small, ugly blue creature came floating through the air, bowing to Draco, and then floating out again through the wall.  
'Is _that_ thing one of the spirits?' he wondered.  
Another one, this one red, came from another direction, and it floated close to the blond boy, watching him intently, before it bowed to him and drifted away. Harry watched it float through the wall, when something else caught his interest. There were two doors on the opposite wall that he'd never seen before. He walked up to them. One of them displayed a red crest with a lion on it. On the other one was a blue crest with a dragon.  
'I wonder what's inside,' Harry thought, and opened the door with the dragon. It was too dark to see anything. Suddenly he felt himself being pulled inside.  
"Draco!" he managed to call out, before he was sucked into the darkness.  
  
Draco shot up from the bed.  
"Dammit, Harry! I can't leave you alone for one second," he muttered, and walked up to the door. He studied the crest intently before stepping through the doorway. The door slammed shut behind them, and they were trapped in the impenetrable darkness.  
Harry touched his arm nervously.  
"What do we do now? I can't even see you!"  
"It's all right," Draco assured him. "The torches light if you clap your hands."  
He did so, and the torches lit, revealing a vast corridor stretching in both directions, with hundreds and hundreds of doors. Harry looked around with wide eyes.  
"Where are we?"  
"Inside my mind."   
  
Next chapter: Witness  
The boys struggle to control the spirit world, take care of the Zabini problem and find that the strength of their love is tested yet again.


	14. Witness

Title: Golden Thread Of Trust   
Author: Marian of the Faeries   
Rating: PG13   
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowlings created and owns all characters and their surroundings. Except for the one I invented myself.   
Warnings: Some cursing, slash, and depressing thoughts... In later chapters, snogging.  
Summary: The war is over. Harry is empty and Draco is lost in a whirlwind of emotions he can't handle. Can and will they help each other? Harry/Draco *slash*.  
  
A/N: So, this fic is coming to an end Only one chapter left! Warning; more angst but only for a short while. Oh, yeah, sorry, no actual revenge in this chapter either. This fic is politically correct. *grin*  
  
Chapter 14: Witness  
  
Harry looked sharply at Draco.  
"We're inside your mind?"  
"Yes, remember the sign on the door?"  
"A dragon" Harry looked around again. "How did you know the torches would light?"  
"I didn't. Listen carefully now, Harry. Remember that _you_ create reality here. I decided that there would be light, and there _was_ light. All it takes is strength of will and character. It's just like resisting the Imperius Curse. You say 'no', and your body doesn't obey. Here, you say ' light', and it _is_ light. The only limitation is your imagination."  
He looked almost shyly at Harry.  
"We're inside my mind now, and everything in here is a creation of my mind. But remember that nothing is quite what it seems; everything is symbolic. Don't walk through doors, for example, if you don't know where they lead. We must remember the symbol on this door to remember our way back."  
He pointed to the crest on the door leading back to Draco's bedroom and their sleeping bodies. It showed only a plain but perfect circle.  
"The question is how we got into the spirit world in the first place. The only time I did it I had to go through hours and hours of meditation," said Draco.  
"Could it be done with some kind of spell or potion?" Harry asked.  
"Yes, that's possible, I suppose," said Draco thoughtfully. "I have no doubts about who did it, though."  
"Zabini," said Harry with a grim expression on his face.  
"We have to _do_ something about that bastard!"  
"Could we somehow get inside _his_ mind and sort of remove the wish to kill us?" asked Harry.  
Draco laughed.  
"Or implant the wish to throw himself from the north tower, perhaps."  
Harry shook his head.  
"No. That would be the same as killing him ourselves, it's not right."  
"I know, Harry," said Draco mildly. "I was only joking. I think we can enter his mind from my memories, come on!"  
Draco started to walk down the corridor, carefully inspecting the signs on the doors, and Harry hurried after him. Eventually, Draco stopped in front of a door.  
"Here it is," he said, and gave Harry a small smile. "The Chamber of Memories. Now, watch where you're going."  
  
As they entered, Harry looked around in awe. The room was vast, and the air was full of floating spheres, resembling soapbubbles, that were filled with distorted images. When they got closer to one of them, Harry could catch glimpses of familiar faces before it floated away out of sight. Draco set a path straight through the room, dodging the spheres, but Harry accidentally brushed his arm against one of them, and felt himself being pulled into it.  
  
He found himself in an astonishingly well tended garden, and noticed that just like in Dumbledore's pensieve he was an invisible outsider, but this time it was clear that he was inside Draco'smemories, inside his mind, because he could feel his thoughts.  
A small group of people sat by a table in a bower, apparently enjoying each other's company and the fine summer day. Harry immediately recognised Draco's mother and father, but the other couple was unfamiliar to him. A small boy came running barefoot across the lawn, stumbling on the hem of his light blue robe. With that fair hair and skin it really could only be one person.  
'He was really cute when he was a kid,' thought Harry with a smile.  
Draco ran up to the strange man, and he turned around slightly so that Harry could see his face. His chestnut hair and beard were shining in the sun, and he had a kind smile on his face. He lifted Draco up and let him sit on his lap, and the boy stared wide-eyed at the grown-ups, watching them with rapt fascination.  
  
Suddenly Harry felt something tugging at him, and before he had a chance to react he was pulled into another memory. He flinched and took a few steps backwards when he realised that he recognised the scene. It was the battlefield outside Hogwarts. Draco stood over a fallen Death Eater with Remus Lupin beside him, levitating the Death Eater mask off his face. Harry recognised him as the man in the garden, with grey streaks in his hair, staring with empty eyes.  
"Avery," said Draco, to Remus or to nobody in particular, Harry didn't know. "I used to play at his house when I was little."  
His voice betrayed no emotion, but Harry could feel the thoughts, tearing painfully at Draco's mind. The knowledge that he was the one to destroy the idyll in the garden; he shattered the child's dream. The hope of peace and perfection. But life isn't that simple, he knew that now. _Mum, dad, Avery_ How many more? They were all dead or imprisoned for life because of him, he caused their fall.  
Suddenly Harry felt someone grip his arm, and he turned around and saw Draco standing beside him.  
"Come on," he said, avoiding Harry's eyes. "Let's get out of here."  
He pulled Harry out, and they were standing in the vast room again.  
"Avoid the spheres," Draco told him in a short tone. "You can get stuck in a memory chain forever. Anyway, I found the memory I was looking for, it's right over here."  
  
Harry thought about the scene he'd just witnessed. He had never fully realised before how much it must have hurt Draco to go against everything he was brought up to be. Even though staying on Voldemort's side would have hurt him so much more. Harry thought that Draco had made the right choice, but how does one tell that to someone who feels responsible for his own parents' deaths? Harry could understand Draco's unease, he had after all overheard something very private.  
"I'm sorry for intruding," he said softly. "I didn't mean to."  
"I know you didn't do it on purpose, Harry," said Draco and gave Harry a small smile. "I just keep forgetting that you don't know the rules here; you haven't studied it like I have."  
They stood in front of another floating sphere, and Harry looked at Draco.  
"All right, let's do this."  
  
They reached out for the sphere at the same time, and were immediately pulled in. Harry saw that they were in the Slytherin common room, and Draco and Zabini were alone, sitting in front of the fireplace.  
"Yes," said Draco, anticipating Harry's question before he had a chance to speak, "we used to get along pretty well — before I stepped out of line, of course." He sounded slightly bitter.  
"See that door in his forehead? We can enter his mind through it."  
To Harry's great surprise a small door opened in the Slytherin's forehead, revealing only an empty, black hole, and he followed Draco through it quickly, before his doubts of whether it was possible actually made it impossible.  
  
Harry had almost expected a long corridor resembling Draco's mind, but instead he found himself standing in a vast, dark cavern.  
"His mind doesn't look quite like yours, does it?" he commented.  
"It should be easier to find what we're looking for this way, don't you think?" said Draco, and winked.  
Suddenly Harry understood. Draco had created reality again. He really should try to learn to take some control over this strange place.  
"So what are we looking for?"  
"Hate."  
"How very descriptive of you, love," said Harry sarcastically, but Draco had already begun examining the room. Harry went in the other direction and tried to look for something that looked like Zabini's wish to kill them. He felt quite ridiculous, and had almost given up when he found something.  
"Draco, come here and have a look. I think I found it!"  
Draco came up to him.  
"Ugh. That's disgusting."  
They regarded the thing for a while. It looked like a giant leech; grey, slimy and attached to the wall with a strong grip of its jaw.  
"All right, let's try to remove it," Harry sighed, and they approached the thing.  
"It's all slick and slimy, I can't get a grip," he complained after a while of struggling.  
"There's a ridge near the jaw, where you can grab it," said Draco.  
Even as Draco spoke, Harry found the ridge, and with a joint effort they managed to tear the creature off. Fast as lightning, it slithered away across the floor and into the shelter of darkness.  
"Isn't it going to do damage somewhere else now?" Harry asked wearily.  
"Maybe. But there's nothing we can do to stop it."  
"All right. Let's get out of here then," said Harry and turned around.  
They went back through the Chamber of Memories, and entered the vast corridor again. This time, Draco let Harry lead the way. Now that they had finished what they set out to do, he had to think of a way to get back. This distracted him a bit, and he didn't notice at first that Harry had opened a door and entered the room inside.  
'Are we already there?' he thought, confused. Then he studied the crest on the door, and was instantly alarmed. It wasn't the plain circle they were looking for, but two circles, one inside the other. Easy to mix up, but it could be a crucial mistake. He peeked inside.  
"Harry! It's the wrong room! Harry? Where are you?"  
He peered inside the darkness, and finally caught sight of Harry. He stood as if frozen to the spot, and in front of him was a large snake that hissed threateningly. Draco was about to run to the rescue when Harry started hissing back.  
'Oh, I forgot. Harry is a Parselmouth. The snake is actually _communicating_ with him. I wonder what it's saying?' Then Draco remembered the significance of the symbol on the door, and winced. Whatever the snake was saying, it wasn't anything good.  
Harry started to make his way back to Draco, and Draco was relieved. The snake had not harmed Harry, at least not physically. When Harry passed Draco, though, he didn't say anything, just brushed by him. He had actually looked hurt. Draco immediately started to worry again. What kind of poison was that snake spreading? What did it tell Harry?  
He followed Harry, trying to catch up with him, but Harry made sure that he was two steps ahead of Draco all the time, refusing to meet his eyes. Draco could almost feel the pain radiating from him. It confused and worried him, and made him want to reach out to Harry and comfort him, though Harry wouldn't allow it. Soon they entered Draco's dormitory again, and they had to confront the problem of how to get back.  
Draco looked at Harry.  
"So Do you have any suggestions how to get back?"  
Harry looked past him.  
"Maybe through that door?"  
Draco followed his gaze, and saw a green door he hadn't seen before. It appeared to be locked, though.  
"We still have to find the key."  
Harry had a determined look on his face.  
"Don't worry, I have it right here in my pocket."  
Draco gaped at him, then he almost hit himself.  
'How could I be so stupid? All we had to do was to _believe_ we had a key, and we would have had one. Lucky thing Harry keeps his wits about him. He learns fast,' he thought proudly.  
While he was busy accusing himself of stupidity, Harry had already unlocked the door and walked through it, and Draco hurried after him before it closed again.  
  
When Draco woke up his head was spinning, and he was disoriented. He felt something warm against his cheek, and after a few seconds he realised that he was lying across Harry's stomach. He looked up at Harry and saw that he wasn't moving, except for the rise and fall of his chest. Harry was so beautiful when he was asleep. The peacefulness of his expression, his long, dark eyelashes resting against his cheek Draco recalled the strange way Harry had acted, and frowned. He would have to do something about it, before it got worse.  
It turned out that he never got the chance, because at that very moment Harry's eyes flew open, and he gasped and pushed Draco off of him. He flew up from the bed, and ran for the door.  
"Harry! Where are you going?"  
Harry stopped by the door, and looked at Draco sadly.  
"I need to be alone for a while," he mumbled, and left.  
Draco stared at the spot where he had disappeared, dumbstruck. This scene was agonisingly familiar.  
"You promised, Harry! You promised me you wouldn't leave me again. And I'll be damned if I'll let you"  
  
Next chapter: Leading The Way  
This story finally comes to an end! We will find out what room Harry entered, what the snake said to Harry and whether or not they will get back together. We will also find out what happened to that picture that Simon Creevey took  
  
And Don't forget this is almost your last chance to review! :D


	15. Leading The Way

Title: Golden Thread Of Trust   
Author: Marian of the Faeries   
Rating: R   
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowlings created and owns all characters and their surroundings. Except for the one I invented myself. Quoted lyrics by Chris Squire.  
Warnings: Some cursing, slash, and depressing thoughts... In later chapters, snogging.  
Summary: The war is over. Harry is empty and Draco is lost in a whirlwind of emotions he can't handle. Can and will they help each other? Harry/Draco *slash*.  
  
A/N: Gaaaaaah!! Fluff-warning! This is the end, folks. I've been working on this fic for eight months, and now it's over. Big hugs and thank you everyone who had been kind enough to review or e-mail me!  
  
[Promotion] I have a couple of fics almost ready to be posted. One Harry/Draco, but it's *very* NC-17, so I will not post it here on FF.net, only on my homepage. I will also post a fic that is set in the same time frame as this one, it's about what Severus and Remus did meanwhile (hehe), and it's called Preconceptions Torn Apart. In my humble opinion it's much better than this one, so if you're interested :)  
  
Chapter 15: Leading The Way  
  
_Displayed in all the things I see  
There's a love you show to me  
Portrayed in all the things you say  
You're the day  
Leading the way  
  
Yes - "Onward"_  
  
Draco went searching for Harry, although he was quite certain of where he could find him. As he walked through the vast corridors of the school, keeping an eye out for Harry just in case, he could feel a knot of fear beginning to form in his stomach. What was wrong with Harry? Was everything going to sort itself out? He didn't even dare to think about the consequences if it didn't.  
His suspicions regarding Harry's whereabouts were confirmed when he entered their small room in the Astronomy Tower and found Harry curled up on the windowsill.  
"Harry?"  
"Go away."  
"No."  
Harry glared at him, but something was missing in that glare, as if he was hiding some other emotion under the pretence of anger.  
"Fine then, stay."  
He gazed out of the window again.  
Draco thought about the things he treasured about Harry. The way his eyes wouldn't open in the morning. The unbelievably soft hairs on his stomach. The way he would still grin his head off every time he caught the Snitch. The way he pushed his hair out of his eyes. The way he kissed good night. The look in his eyes when he said 'I love you'.  
Draco felt tears beginning to form in his eyes.  
"You're breaking up with me, aren't you?" he said accusingly.  
Harry didn't answer, he just kept staring out of the window, motionless. Finally, he stirred.  
"Draco, why are we together?"  
"_Why?_ Because we love each other! Or rather," he finished off quietly, "I, at least, love you."  
Harry shifted, and looked at him sadly.  
"You know, the snake?"  
Draco nodded, his entire body tense with nervous anticipation.  
"It told me that you didn't love me, that you were only using me."  
"And you believed it?" Draco exclaimed incredulously.  
"What was I supposed to believe?" said Harry defensively. "It was inside _your_ mind."  
"Well, what do you expect when you walk into the Chamber of Deepest Fears!"  
Harry looked at him sharply.  
"The Chamber of Deepest Fears?" he repeated.  
Draco looked down at his hands.  
"Well, my my deepest fear was that someone would take you away from me."  
He sunk dejectedly to the floor.  
"So" Harry whispered, processing the information. "You do love me."  
Draco gave him no answer, but Harry didn't need one. He slipped down from his seat on the windowsill, walked over to where Draco was sitting and wrapped his arm around him.  
"I'm so sorry, love."  
Draco began to shake, and Harry stroked his hair, trying to soothe him.  
"If you leave me Harry, I don't know what I'll do. I don't think I could live without you," he said in a strangled voice.  
Harry was shocked by his reaction. Had he really been this afraid of losing him?  
"Shh, it's all right love, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."  
He kissed Draco's cheek, and continued to hold him and stroke his hair until his shaking subsided. Eventually, Draco looked up at Harry and gave him a weak smile.  
"Harry, you bastard. You nearly scared the shit out of me!"  
"I'm sorry," said Harry earnestly, and kissed him tenderly.  
Draco kissed back as if his life depended on it, and when he thought about it, maybe it did. Yes, quite possibly it did.  
  
* * *  
  
"Harry? Did you ever get that photo back from the little Creevey creep?"  
Harry smiled brightly.  
"Yeah, I did, and a lucky thing too. Wouldn't want anyone to see it" he trailed off suggestively.  
"Why?" Draco asked, amused. "We were only kissing, after all."  
"Really? Well, our picture-selves got some more interesting ideas. Last time I looked we were getting undressed."  
"Heh, really? I'd like to see that."  
Harry unlocked a drawer in his bedside table, rummaged around in it for a while, and eventually found what he'd been looking for. His eyes widened considerably.  
"Merlin! Look at this, Draco!"  
"What?"  
Draco scooted closer to have a look.  
"Interesting" he murmured.  
"I had no idea that that was possible!" said Harry, astonished, glancing at Draco.  
"Want to try it?" asked Draco mischievously, and nibbled at Harry's earlobe.  
"Well, it certainly looks like we're having fun, so why not"  
  
The picture fluttered unnoticed to the floor, as the two young lovers became engaged in more important matters.   
  
  
  
  
Acta est fabula, plaudite!  
  
[_The play is over, applaud!]_  
  
Last chance to review everyone! Pleasepleasepleaseplease? *^_^*


End file.
